


Never Have I Ever

by hey_assbutt67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Dean, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Castiel, Human Castiel, Human Meg, M/M, Mary Lives, My First Destiel Fanfic, Nightmares, POV Multiple, Party Games, Relationship(s), Roommates, Sexual Content, Smut, Students, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:31:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3563060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_assbutt67/pseuds/hey_assbutt67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are roomed with each other in their first year of college. Basically a story of their relationship and the events around them which somewhat affect their relationship with no definitive beginning, middle or end. Cue lots of fluff, angst and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention that i have limited knowledge on the american college system, etc so if i get anything really wrong just let me know and if you have any helpful information you can share about it, i'd love that :)

"Are you sure you're going to be okay, Dean? "

"Yes, Mom. I'm fine; it's just new is all. You don't have to stay, it’s a long drive back and I know Sammy's got a math test tomorrow. I'll call you tomorrow," Dean reassured his mother, Mary. 

She touched her fingers to Dean's cheek, lightly cupping his jaw. "My little angel, starting college." 

Dean could tell his mom was surprised he was going to college. He couldn’t blame her, he was too. It wasn’t like Mary thought Dean wasn’t capable, it’s just that Dean had never shown much interest growing up. Dean smiled at her words and held her wrist where she had her hand at his face. "Thanks for the Lasagna. Now, go, I don't want you embarrassing me in front of my roommate," Dean said, playfully. Then he added, more seriously, "I'll call all the time. I promise."

"Just, please, don’t live off the burgers at the campus cafeteria."

"That I can't promise,” Dean grinned cheekily.

Just as Dean finished his sentence, his kid brother, Sam, appeared at his dorm door. "The campus is so cool, Dean! There's a gym, and the library looks huge." Dean chuckled at Sam's excitement for things Dean had little interest in. Dean did like to read, but his tastes were pretty specific, and he knew with Sam being the geek he is, that he had all sorts of different books in mind, like those Greek mythology books he was always reading. As for the gym, Dean was definitely not into that. 

"We need to head back now, Sam. Say bye to your brother," Mary chimed in. 

Sam ducked his head in disappointment. Dean wondered if his little bro was going to miss him. "I'll see you later, Dean."

"Bye Sammy. Be good for Mom." Dean ruffled his hair, and started pushing him and Mary out his door, gently. 

"Jerk," Sam retorted.

"Bitch."  
\--------------------------------

 

Dean was arranging his five favorite albums in a neat pile on his desk when someone walked into the dorm room. He turned around to see another guy standing at the doorway, looking disheveled and slightly flustered. The first thing Dean noticed was the guy's dark, wild sex hair, sticking up in ends all over his head. The next thing he noticed was his eyes. Blue. Like, really blue. Dean absentmindedly licked his lower lip before he realized he was staring. 

"Uh…Hey," he stammered. "I'm guessing you’re my roommate?"

"I assume so." The boy narrowed his eyes - his blue, blue eyes - and tilted his head ever so slightly to the left, as if waiting for Dean to say more. Dean stuck out his hand abruptly. "Dean Winchester."

The boy took Dean's hand and shook it, his grasp firm. "Castiel Novak." His pink lips curled slightly into a smile. Dean noticed Castiel’s lips were chapped. He nodded, with a grin, at the introduction and turned awkwardly back to decorating his side of the dorm. Castiel wandered over to his bed and began unpacking behind Dean. Dean felt an urge to make conversation with this guy and get to know him. They were going to be living together after all. 

“So, uh…Cas…” he began. 

Castiel faltered slightly at the nickname, and then turned to face Dean. “Yes?”

“Where abouts are you from?” 

“Topeka.” Dean hadn’t expected Castiel’s voice to be so gravelly. “What about you?” the boy added.

“Lawrence.” Dean flung himself onto his bed and lay on his back, admiring his décor skills. He’d covered the wall by his bed in worn out band posters ranging from AC/DC to Led Zeppelin. There were also a few movie posters, including his new Star Trek one. Dean always teased his little brother for being a geek but everyone in the Winchester family knew who the real geek was. He turned his head on his pillow to see that Castiel was staring at him, squinting again. When Dean noticed him, Castiel didn’t look away or change the quizzical expression on his face. Instead of making Dean uncomfortable, it made him chuckle. 

“Uh… hey, man? Earth to Cas?” 

The nickname again. Dean hadn’t really noticed he was doing it. Castiel blinked and came back down to earth. “Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier than before. 

“It’s cool,” Dean smiled, swinging his legs off the bed and jumping to his feet. “So, do you have any friends here already?”

“No, I don’t know anyone here.” 

“Except me,” Dean said, grinning.

“Except you.” Castiel’s lips curled up slightly again. 

“Well, I’m the same. Hey, you get the privilege of being my first college friend!” 

“I feel honored,” Castiel smirked. He couldn't help feeling just a little mesmerized by Dean’s smile. It seemed so genuine. 

“We should celebrate that. With burgers. I hear the cafeteria burgers are above average and I am starving.” Dean accentuated this by smacking his belly.  
\--------------------------------

 

Dean wasn't sure why, but there was something about this guy that made Dean want to get to know him; like really know him. This strange, awkward guy with his crazy sex hair and too big trench coat. He watched Castiel chew his cheeseburger like it had been sent down from the heavens especially for him, and laughed. Castiel looked up at Dean through his long lashes, and furrowed his brows. Dean shoved a fry in his mouth and shrugged. “So…” he began, his mouth full. “Tell me about yourself.” He cringed at his cheesy icebreaker, but it was worth a shot. Castiel took a long gulp of his milkshake, then began playing with his straw. Dean watched his long, slender fingers, waiting. 

“Well… I’m not much, really. What would you like to know, Dean?” 

“Just like… what do you love? What are you majoring in?” Dean offered, looking back up at Castiel’s face.

Castiel told Dean about how he likes to read, mostly old stuff, and Dean spoke about his favorite author, Vonnegut. Castiel promised he would read Slaughterhouse-five and Dean promised he would read Animal Farm. Castiel is studying theology because he is interested in how religion shapes people’s lives and the world. They spoke freely like that for an hour, the topic changing from siblings- Castiel has two; his younger sister Anna and his older brother Gabriel- to Dean’s part time job at his “Uncle” Bobby’s auto shop. Bobby wasn't really Dean or Sam’s uncle but he had always been in their lives as their father’s best friend, even after John had died in a fatal car crash a few years ago. Sam and Dean had been in the crash too and it had shaken them both up pretty bad, but Bobby was there when they needed him. Dean loved him like an uncle or a father, and so did Sam. 

When the conversation began to die down, Dean realized it was getting late and suggested they head back to their dorm. Dean was feeling pretty buzzed about college life now- it looked like Castiel and him were going to get along just fine. He’d been worried he wouldn't like his roommate, or that his roommate wouldn't like him… or both. They wandered back to the residence halls slowly, elbows brushing every so often. 

Later that night, Dean and Castiel were lying in their respective beds, both staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim them. 

“You never actually told me what you were majoring in”, Castiel blurted. 

“Huh? Oh… I’m doing automotive engineering. You know like, cars and shit.”

Castiel nodded in the darkness, “that makes sense.”

A few minutes later, Dean could hear Castiel snoring lightly and he shut his eyes for his second attempt at sleep that night. Dean didn't sleep much. When he tried, he just felt restless and when he did sleep there were usually nightmares involved- mostly about the crash. Normally Dean would just get up and occupy himself until he was finally ready for sleep but this was his first night with his new roommate and he didn't want to make a bad impression. Frustrated, Dean grabbed his iPod from his bedside table and began to play Led Zeppelin, drumming his fingers against his stomach in time to the music, until he finally dozed off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean fall into a routine, gradually getting to know each other better

The first week of college went by pretty smoothly. Dean was enjoying his classes so far and had already made a friend called Ash. He was a strange guy but Dean liked him- he was amusing and Dean could tell he was extremely intelligent, although he may not look it. At the end of the first week, Ash invited Dean to a party in another student’s apartment off-campus. Parties weren’t really Dean’s thing but he did like a beer, and it would be a good chance to meet some college girls, so he accepted the offer.

“Mind if I bring my roommate?” Dean asked. “He seems like the guy who’d spend his Friday night holed up in our room writing a boring essay if he doesn’t have plans. I can’t allow that.”

“Sure, compadre! The more the merrier,” Ash replied, patting Dean’s back in a friendly gesture as they left class.

“Awesome. See you tonight, then,” Dean saluted Ash, and then turned to go find Castiel.

He found Castiel perched on his bed, sketching in a small leather book. He threw his bag down and strode over to where Castiel sat, peering over his shoulder to try get a glimpse in the book. Quickly, Castiel folded the book over in his lap and craned his neck to look up into Dean’s bottle green eyes. Dean stared back for a beat before snapping out of it. “You sketch, Cas?”

“Not really,” Castiel fidgeted with the book in his elegant hands.

Dean ignored his negative comment. “That’s awesome. Can I see?” He reached out for the book but Castiel yanked it back, still searching for something in Dean’s eyes. After a moment, he brought the book back to Dean, gingerly, and let him take it from his hands. “You sure?” Dean asked, cautiously. Castiel nodded, so he opened the book at the latest page. The sketch was of a young looking girl with long hair, falling over parts of her face, and big eyes looking down at something. Dean ran his fingers over the sketch, and looked down at Castiel, still sitting on the bed, looking intently back up at Dean. “Cas, this is great,” he breathed. Castiel’s mouth twitched upwards.

“Is it your girlfriend?” Dean wondered aloud.

“Sister,” Castiel corrected. Then he hesitated for second before adding, “Girls aren’t really… my thing.”

But Dean wasn’t listening. He’d started to move over to his wardrobe to find a fresh shirt to wear to the party. He pulled out his favorite dark red flannel and threw it on the bed, before turning back to Castiel.

“We’re going to be attending a little soiree this fine evening, so find your best shirt and get changed.”

* * *

 

 

 

The party was already bustling when Dean and Castiel arrived at 8 o’ clock. Dean casually slung his arm over Castiel’s shoulders and led him through the crowd to find Ash. Castiel found himself leaning slightly into the touch, but Dean didn’t seem to notice, or if he did he didn’t mention it. During their quest to locate Ash, they stopped in the kitchen to get drinks for themselves. Dean handed Castiel a beer and took one for himself.

“Do you see anyone you know here?” he shouted over the music.

Castiel shook his head, then said, “Well, I mean there are people from my classes but no one I’m friends with.”

Dean nodded and took a swig of his beer. Then, he took Castiel’s wrist and guided them back into the crowds to resume their quest. Dean’s hand was warm on his skin, and Castiel couldn’t help missing the touch when Dean found Ash and let go.

“Dean-o!” Ash clapped Dean on the shoulder before bringing him and Castiel over to his group of friends. He introduced them to a big guy with short, brown hair called Benny, a bouncy redheaded girl named Charlie, and a small, baked-looking guy named Andy. They all spoke for a while about their courses and getting to know each other. Then, Charlie was re-positioning everybody so that they were sitting in a circle on the floor in a quieter corner of the room.

“I’ve decided that we’re all too sober, so we’re going to play a game,” she chirped.

Next thing Dean knew, they each had a shot glass and a bottle of vodka between them. “We’re going to play Never Have I Ever. We take turns to say something we all may or may not have done. People who have done said thing take a drink. Simple.” She clapped her hands together, excitedly.

Dean didn’t like the sound of this game. Being open was not his thing. After a glance over at Castiel, Dean concluded that he wasn’t too thrilled either.

“I’ll start,” Andy said. “Never have I ever… had sex in the shower.”

Everyone watched incredulously as Dean apprehensively filled his shot glass and knocked the liquid back, down his throat. He screwed up his face at the burn before returning his gaze to everyone.

“What?” He shrugged.

“You saucy minx,” Ash snorted.

“Okay, me next,” Charlie said, menacingly. “Never have I ever kissed a guy.”

Everyone’s shot glasses remained untouched, except for Castiel’s as he ran an index finger along the rim anxiously. Dean waited for Charlie to take a shot, but she didn’t.

“You’ve never kissed someone, Charlie?” He asked disbelievingly.

“Oh, I have. Plenty of gals,” Charlie winked.

“Oh, I gotcha,” Dean nodded in understanding, and then turned to watch Castiel who’d started to slowly fill his glass. He brought the glass to his mouth and knocked the liquid back, side eyeing Dean the whole time. Charlie leaned forward with her palm in the air and Castiel reciprocated the hi-five. “Hey, welcome to the club, Castiel!” she beamed. Castiel laughed awkwardly, stealing a quick glance at Dean who looked lost in thought.

By the end of the game, it turned out Dean had a lot of life experience already, so was pretty drunk. Castiel decided to take Dean back to their dorm as it was getting pretty late anyway. He said goodbye to his new friends, and Dean waved drunkenly before slinging his heavy arm over Castiel’ shoulder and leaning into his side while they made their way to the front door. Castiel, despite his pretty sheltered, boring life, had still managed to get slightly tipsy and was in good spirits. As they walked home, (that dorm was already starting to feel like home), Dean sang an old rock song out of tune that Castiel couldn’t make out through Dean’s slurring.

“‘ _m burnin’, ‘m burn…for you_ ,” Dean slurred through a lopsided grin. It was the same grin that had gotten Dean into many girls’ beds and sometimes even their hearts. As he sang the word ‘you’ he pushed his hip into Castiel’s body abruptly, causing them both to lose their balance for a moment. Castiel chuckled and tightened his arm around Dean’s waist, who was too drunk to question the gesture.

“Dean, what _are_ you singing?” Castiel laughed. He felt like joining in, but he couldn’t until he worked out what the song was. Dean turned his head to look at Castiel through his droopy eyes.

“You’re gay,” he blurted.

Castiel tripped over his own foot and gripped Dean’s waist tighter to regain his balance. “Uhm…yeah. Is that gonna be-”

“That’s cool,” Dean interrupted.

Castiel could feel Dean tugging at a tousled lock of hair from behind his ear, twisting it around his finger. He wanted to know what Dean was thinking. Usually, Dean was easy to read, his facial expressions giving everything away, but right now Castiel was lost.

They made it back to the halls uneventfully and made their way up the steps, Dean stumbling a few times. When they got through their door, Castiel let go of Dean so they could make their way to their separate sides of the room, but he was hovering. Castiel eyed Dean for a few seconds who stood over him, his plush lips parted slightly. Dean wasn’t sure what he was even doing. He knew he was acting strange. What seemed like centuries later to Castiel, he turned away and began to walk unsteadily towards his bed, flopping his body down onto it for the night. _Okay, that was weird_ , Castiel thought.

Around 3am that night, the song Dean had been singing suddenly came to Castiel.

 

* * *

 

 

Gradually, Castiel and Dean fell into a comfortable routine as college roommates. Whoever got up first for class would wake the other up too. Dean liked to blare the music from a rock station in Castiel’s ear to get him up. He quickly discovered Castiel was not a morning person but that only made finding annoying ways to wake him up more amusing. In the evenings, they would usually go find some food together, sometimes joining their new group of friends, sometimes just the two of them. Dean secretly preferred when it was just him and Castiel because he liked listening to him, and Cas didn’t say a lot when they were with the others. Then, on Friday nights they would all form a circle at someone’s party or a small dorm gathering and play one of Charlie’s infamous drinking games. When they were at a party others would join in and soon they found themselves starting some sort of expected tradition. The nights in someone’s dorm room usually involved watching a movie that Castiel had never seen before. Dean enjoyed the movie games the best because it meant an excuse to watch something like Lord of The Rings or Batman.

One Friday night, while Dean was changing out of his grey Henley into a fresher shirt, Castiel sighed dramatically from his bed. Dean cocked an eyebrow, “You okay over there, buddy?”

Castiel sat up and began toying with the hem of his shirt, then said, “If we keep doing this every week we’re going to murder our livers.”

Dean thought about that for a moment and nodded in agreement. “We don’t have to go out this week, Cas.”

“You can go out, Dean; we’re not a package deal. I think I’ll try to finish this paper tonight instead.”

“Oh, nuh-uh. No way, Cas. I will not let you spend your Friday night doing work,” Dean grimaced.

He wouldn’t mind spending a night in himself, anyway. Maybe they could watch some movies, order a pizza.

“How do you feel about Star Wars?”

“I’ve never seen it.”

Dean clutched his heart theatrically, “You- what!? Okay well that’s settled then, we are staying in and we are watching Star Wars. Right now.” He rolled up his sleeves and strode over to his DVD collection. Cas watched Dean with an amused expression as he inserted the disc into his laptop and got comfortable on his bed. A moment later Dean looked up expectantly, and Cas strolled over to where he sat. He slid in next to Dean, who pressed their thighs together and positioned the laptop on both of their laps. Throughout the whole movie, Cas could not sit still. He and Dean were sitting so close it caused his skin to tingle. Dean was so engrossed in the movie, he hardly noticed Castiel running his hands through his hair every few minutes.

By the end of the movie, his hair was sticking up in ends all over the place. When the film was finished Dean turned to ask Castiel his verdict so far, but instead was taken aback by the image in front of him. “Woah, Cas,” he chuckled, “What happened to your hair, man?” Then, without thinking he reached out to smooth Cas’ hair down who tensed at the unexpected gesture. Dean took his hand back quickly. “Sorry, was that weird? I don’t know why I did that,” he murmured.

“No,” Castiel whispered.

Dean swallowed, his eyes flickering between Castiel’s eyes and lips. The teenager’s pretty blue eyes contrasted with the hard features of his face. Dean swore Castiel’s jawline almost formed a perfect right angle. He broke the tension with a platonic pat on Castiel’s shoulder before getting up to find his phone. He had a couple messages from Charlie.

**C: Where the hell are u bitches tonight??**

**C: whatever, ur missing out. we’re watching star wars!**

Dean laughed quietly at the coincidence. Castiel looked up from where he was still sat on the bed, trying to process what had just happened. “What is it?” he asked.

“Just Charlie wondering where we are,” Dean paused. “Hey, do you wanna order a pizza?”

“Yeah, sure”

Dean began dialing the pizza place’s number, “Toppings?”

“Ham and pineapple, please.”

Dean looked up from his phone and pressed his lips together to hold back a smile. Cas had discovered that when Dean pursed his lips like that, two adorable dimples appeared. “I woulda guessed you’d be a fruit on pizza kinda guy.”

“Tomato is a fruit, too.”

“Touché.”

They ate the pizza in comfortable silence, except for the moans which escaped Dean’s mouth every few bites. The remaining hours of the night were spent watching _The Empire Strikes Back_ and Cas was grateful not be pressed up against Dean this time because he wasn’t sure he could cope with the one-sided tension again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Dean was drunkenly singing is 'Burning For You' by Blue Oyster Cult.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things progress :)

Castiel was sitting cross-legged on his new friend Meg’s floor. She sat in front of him, propped up against her bed. Castiel must have been daydreaming again because Meg was waving her hand in front of his eyes.

“Sorry Meg. Were you saying something?”

“There’s something getting to you Clarence, and you’re going to spill,” said Meg, slowly. Castiel still wasn’t sure where her nickname for him came from.

He sighed, “There’s nothing getting to me.” He ran his fingers through his hair and then attempted to look at Meg in the eyes to seem more convincing.

“Who is it?”

“What?”

“There’s some unrequited love shit going down here, I can feel it,” said Meg. Castiel was sure he sensed a hint of excitement in her voice. He groaned noisily and threw himself back to be lying down. Meg smirked at the melodramatic action, and awaited an explanation.

“Okay, so basically my roommate is really hot. Like a model.  But he’s also straight…I think. He’s got these stupid green eyes, and his smile makes my heart hurt, and I am fucked,” Cas babbled.

 Meg heaved out a laugh and raised her eyebrows. “Whoo,” she whistled, “You’ve got it bad, huh?” Castiel nodded and fixed his eyes on the ceiling, refusing to look Meg in the eye.

“So who is this hunk?”

“Dean Winchester.”

“Shit.”

Castiel sat up, facing Meg. “What?”

“Just about every girl who likes guys has their eye on him. I don’t blame them. I see why you’re sexually frustrated now, having to live in such close quarters with that guy without any action.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Meg and glared. “Not helping.”

Meg just shrugged. After a few moments of silence, she shot her head up to look at Castiel. He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You said you _think_ he’s straight?” She checked.  Castiel nodded, wondering where this was going. “What makes you say _think_?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. I mean he chats up plenty of girls when I’m with him, and he talks about them sometimes. There’s this girl… Lisa?”

“Get to the point, Clarence,” Meg encouraged.

“He gives me these weird signals. Like, he’ll suddenly be really close, really… _looking_ at me. With any other guy- who I knew wasn’t straight- I’d assume they were going to kiss me or something. Then, he just suddenly moves away and acts like nothing happened.” Castiel fidgeted anxiously with his jeans, and then ran a hand through his hair, before adding, “I mean I know I’m just imagining it…probably.”

“This is very interesting. It sounds like he’s in the closet to me.” Meg pondered for a moment, flicking one of her dark curls around between her fingers. “Or maybe he’s bisexual.”

“He’s never kissed a guy before.”

“Budding bisexual?” Meg tried. Castiel snorted. He checked the time on his phone and got to his feet.

“I gotta go Meg, sorry. I’ve got class in a few minutes.” He hoisted his bag onto his shoulders and headed for the door.

“Okay, I’ll see you around,” Meg smiled. “And Castiel? Go get your unicorn,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Castiel rolled his eyes at her and made his way to class.

\----------------------

 

Dean’s nightmares had been particularly bad recently. There were times where he’d go ages without a single one, and other times where something seemed to trigger them. They tended to get bad when he was stressing about other things. He woke up with a start, drenched in his sweat. His duvets had been kicked to the edge of the bed and they were mostly hanging off.

“Dean?”

Dean sat up to see a bemused Cas sitting at his desk, staring at Dean with that squinty eyes and tilted head thing he does when he’s confused. “Are you alright, Dean?”

 “Uh…yeah Cas, sorry. Just another nightmare.” Dean ran his fingers through his short, sandy hair and then ran it down his face.

“Another?”

Dean didn’t mean to mention that. “Yeah, um… it’s nothing. Just a thing about me.” He stared at Castiel for a few moments, sitting cross-legged in his chair, his blue eyes heavy with sleepiness. He wasn’t wearing anything except his boxers. Then Dean remembered he was in a conversation with him. He cleared his throat. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to write an essay that needed done.”

Dean checked the time. His alarm clock read 2am. “Maybe you should try get some sleep again.”

Castiel pondered on that and then turned his laptop off before crawling into his bed.  “Goodnight, Dean.”

\--

Dean peered at his alarm clock for the seventh time since waking from his nightmare. 2:49am. He sighed.

“Dean? Are you awake?”

Dean laughed, “Yup. Damn, we’re not doing great tonight are we?”

Castiel snorted. “No.”

They were silent again for a minute before Castiel knocked up the courage to ask what Dean’s nightmare was about. When Dean didn’t respond immediately, he wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“My dad.”

Castiel propped himself up on his elbow, trying to get a view of Dean in the dark. He could just make out the curve of his body sprawled out on the bed. Dean waited for Castiel to say something, to give him a sign to continue, but Cas didn’t push.

“There was a- a crash. A few years ago,” Dean continued, slowly. “It was me, my dad and my kid brother, Sammy. Sam.”

Castiel watched Dean’s face as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Dean had his forearm over his eyes.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Dean,” Castiel murmured.

“No, it’s okay. Maybe talking about it will help me sleep after.” Dean hesitated for a while before continuing, “My dad, he didn’t make it. It was messy. He died straight away.” Dean’s breath was becoming shaky, “stupid son-of-a-bitch, drunk driver. A truck.” 

“Your brother- did he-”

“Sammy’s fine,” Dean smiled at the thought of his little brother. “He was pretty messed up but he was the luckiest out of us all.” Dean rolled onto his side to face Cas’ bed. He searched for Cas’ face in the darkness and saw that his brows were furrowed. Dean felt a sudden urge to walk over there and smooth the worry from them with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was low, serious.

“It’s fine; I’m just being a wuss. It’s pathetic, really.”

“That’s not true.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Geez, I can’t believe I’ve just kept you up talking about this. Sorry, man.” He watched Cas sit up in his bed.

“Your problems matter, Dean.” Cas was doing the squinty thing again. “Just like anyone else’s.”

Dean scoffed, “Huh. Thanks, man.” He rolled back over to face the wall.

Cas was sure Dean had fallen asleep this time, when a low voice piped up from the other side of the room, a few minutes later.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Do you think- maybe, you could- it helps when…” Dean stammered. “I might be able to fall asleep better if someone’s in my bed…with me.” Dean screwed his eyes shut. He couldn’t believe what he was proposing.

“Are you asking me to come over and sleep in your bed with you?” Castiel choked.

“Forget it man, that’s weird.” But Castiel was already climbing into bed with him. Dean felt the bed dip as Castiel wriggled in, getting comfortable. He couldn’t help smiling to himself, still curled up against the wall. Castiel might have failed to suppress a smile too.

 -------------------------

Castiel awoke the next morning with Dean’s head buried in the crook of his neck, breathing hot against his skin. He was half-hard under the duvets, and he could feel that Dean was too. This had the potential to get very awkward, but Castiel couldn’t bring himself to push Dean off. He had just elected to ignore the situation for now and enjoy it while it lasted when Dean stirred on top of him.

“Cas,” he murmured against his neck. 

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean popped one eye open and peered up at Castiel who was gazing back. When their current position finally registered in Dean’s sleep-hazed mind, he jerked back, knocking his forehead on Castiel’s chin.

“Ow!” they chorused.  Dean scrambled over to the other side of the bed and cleared his throat awkwardly. Castiel was rubbing his chin. Dean apologized, but made no effort to get out of bed. Castiel wasn’t sure if he was waiting to him to get up. He decided he probably should and began to swing his legs onto the floor, but Dean grabbed his bicep. “Thanks for last night, man.” His voice was raspy, from just waking up. God, it sounded like they’d just had a one night stand. Castiel wished.

 -----------------------

Despite the awkward start the morning after, them sharing a bed became a habit after every time Dean had a nightmare. Whenever Dean woke from a nightmare in the middle of the night, he’d climb into Castiel’s bed without waking him, and Castiel wouldn’t question it when they woke the next morning.

One Friday night, it had become Castiel’s turn to get drunk at one of Charlie’s infamous drinking games, and Dean’s to take him home. A few hours after attempting to fall asleep, Dean thought, _fuck it_ and strode over to Castiel’s bed. As he was getting comfortable, Castiel rolled over and grinned clumsily at Dean.

“Oh. You’re awake.”

“No, I’m not,” Castiel teased, giggling at himself. Dean started to climb back out of the bed but Castiel latched onto his wrist. “Stay.”

Dean hesitated but gave in, and curled back under the duvets. Castiel was still facing him, his eyes open. “One, two…three, four…” he whispered.

“What are you doing?” Dean studied his face. A slither of light coming from outside cast a shadow of his eyelashes under his eyes.

“I’m counting your freckles,” Castiel purred. “You made me lose count, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at his adorableness. “You got to four.” His heart was racing. He knew his friendship with Castiel wasn’t like normal platonic friendships. He started to wonder if this was something more. But Dean was straight, wasn’t he?

Castiel dipped his head forward and Dean froze, but he just rested his forehead against Dean’s and began to snore lightly. His snoring reminded Dean of a cat’s purring.  Dean dozed off soon after into a dreamless slumber, feeling contented. He didn’t know what was going on between them, but he wasn’t complaining. Maybe freaking out a little, but not complaining.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was sat in the cafeteria, enthralled in a debate with Charlie about Game of Thrones when Castiel came wandering over, a tray of food in his hands. He turned his attention to the movement of Castiel’s trim hips as he walked. Charlie was waving her hands in front of Dean’s face.

“Dean! Did you hear any of what I just said about Jaime and Brienne’s relationship?” she snapped. “Or were you exploring strange new worlds in your head again without me?”

“What?”

Charlie rolled her eyes at Dean, before letting out a hushed _ohh_ when Castiel slid into the chair next to Dean. Castiel looked up at the two of them, smiling and oblivious to the situation. “Hello, Dean. Charlie.”

“S’up bitch,” Charlie beamed at the same time Dean muttered, “Hey, Cas.”

The three of them sat chatting for the next hour about their classes, people and their plans for the weekend, Castiel’s elbow brushing Dean’s arm every time he lifted his fork to his mouth. It sent a warm, tingling sensation through Dean’s body each time. This was getting ridiculous. He seriously needed to get laid, like soon. Dean stood up from his chair announcing that he had to go meet his old friend Jo, who was visiting from home.  He walked out in a rush, clapping Castiel on the shoulder as he passed.

When Castiel looked back up from his drink, Charlie was staring at him with a gleam in her eye.  He cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“What is _up_ with you two?”  Charlie was leaning forward on the table, like a cop interrogating someone.

Castiel blushed. “What- what do you mean?” He took a gulp of his Coca-Cola, avoiding her gaze.

“The sexual tension between you two is palpable.”

Castiel choked on his drink, droplets of Coca-Cola spraying onto the table. Charlie remained unfazed, waiting.

“Dean’s straight, Charlie.” He sputtered.

Charlie shook her head. “What you have going on, it is not platonic.” Castiel thought about Dean crawling into his bed most nights and agreed inwardly.

“Well, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Castiel could feel his face burning with embarrassment.        

                                                                                            -------------------------------

Dean trudged through the campus grounds towards the entrance to meet Jo, thankful for the fresh air. He tilted his nose towards the sky, taking a deep breath. He’d been looking forward to seeing Jo all day. He’d missed having her to talk to whenever he needed it. That was one downside to being at college. When Dean saw her in the distance, wrapped up in her hoodie and shying from the cold, he sped up his pace. Jo looked up and spotted Dean. She ran forward, jumping into Dean’s arms, and he spun her around in a hug. They were both giggling when he put her back down and wrapped his arm around her waist. “How’s it going, Joanna-Beth Harvelle?” Dean teased. Jo thwacked the back of Dean’s head. They walked back to Dean’s room slowly, catching up on the way. Jo filled Dean in on what was happening back home, letting him know Bobby was doing well and that he says hey.

The Harvelles were family friends of the Winchesters and Bobby due to John having worked in the Marines with Jo’s dad. Jo was like a little sister to Sam and Dean, and her mum, Ellen, was like an aunt to them.  By the time they arrived at Dean’s door, the topic of conversation had veered to Dean’s roommate. Dean faltered when unlocking the door, and sighed, resting his forehead against the door. Then he quickly pushed Jo through the door and shut it behind them. He guessed this conversation would be inevitable.

“That’s actually something I need to talk to you about,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. Jo raised her eyebrows at him, eyes wide, and pulled him down onto the floor to sit opposite each other.

 “This sounds serious, so I needed to be at eye level with you,” she joked.

Dean laughed nervously and looked around the room. He was grateful that Castiel was still out.  Jo slapped Dean’s knee, bringing his attention back to her. “I haven’t got all night! Spill!” she cried. Jo was a small, blonde girl who didn’t take anybody’s shit. That was something Dean loved about her. He laughed at her assertion, and raised his hands up in defense. “Ok, ok…” He cleared his throat.

“Ok,” He repeated. “ So…You know when you like something in particular, and you know you really like it and you don’t think anything could change that… but then something else comes along that’s quite different and you find you actually like that too, which you never expected-”

“Dean. What the hell does this have to do with your roommate?” Jo interrupted, her pretty face screwed up in confusion.

“I think-”, Dean paused. “My roommate and I…I think I might be a little gay for my roommate,” Dean blurted. _Oh my god, I’ve just admitted it out loud,_ he thought. He buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes. Jo just sat there with a shit-eating grin on her face. “No way!” she squealed, shoving Dean’s shoulder, playfully. “Where is he anyway?”

“He’s out with our friend Charlie, I think.” Dean still couldn’t meet Jo’s gaze. She turned more serious, pulling his hands from his face.

“Dean, you know there’s nothing wrong with that right? It just means you’re probably bisexual.”

“I know,” Dean exhaled. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do?”

“You’re gonna pursue that man,” Jo said, sternly. Dean huffed out a laugh. He suddenly felt like a whole weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A moment later, Jo added, “You didn’t bring me out here just because you were having a gay panic were you?”

“No,” Dean chuckled. “I just missed you, it had been too long.” He reached out to place a hand on her knee. “Thanks, Jo, by the way.” Jo just nodded and smiled. They spent the rest of the night hanging out, listening to music, being stupid and devising a game plan for how Dean can get into Castiel’s pants. Well, only Jo was devising the plan. Dean was flopped down on his bed, hiding his head under his pillow.

Dean and Jo were sprawled out on his bed discussing black holes when Castiel stumbled in late, slightly tipsy. He looked over at Jo lying next to Dean, her blonde curls falling over her face, and frowned. _Dean brought home a girl,_ he thought. Castiel wasn’t sure he could deal with that tonight. When he shut the door behind him, the two looked up from where they lay. Jo was grinning suggestively as Dean cleared his throat and quickly sat up. “Hey, Cas. This is Jo, my sister from a completely different set of parents.” He gestured between Jo and Cas. “Jo, this is Cas- I mean Castiel.” He gave her a pointed look, warning her not to say anything she would regret. Castiel felt his whole body relax at the introduction.

“Nice to meet you, Jo,” he smiled.

 “Pleasure to meet you also,” Jo beamed.

Jo invited Castiel to sit with them on the bed and join in on their “deep and intellectual” discussion. Castiel obliged and Jo noticed that he chose to sit very close to Dean. Dean fell asleep halfway through a conversation about the possibility of time travel around 2am with his forehead resting against Castiel’s shoulder. Jo watched Castiel carefully place Dean’s head on his pillow with a fondness in his eyes, and it clicked in her mind that _Cas likes Dean back._ When he turned back to face Jo he stopped at her expression and narrowed his eyes. “Why does everyone keep looking at me like that, tonight?”

“He likes you too, you know,” she grinned.

Castiel almost managed to choke on his own saliva. “Excuse me?”

“Do you like Dean?”

“Of course I like Dean, he’s my friend,” said Castiel, slowly. Jo could see why Dean liked Cas. He was dreamy.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You _like like_ Dean and he _like likes_ you,” Jo sang. Castiel’s heart had started to race, and he felt a sudden surge of electricity through his body. Was Jo really saying this? “How do you know?” he whispered. Jo just pretended to zip her mouth shut and said that she had said too much already.  Even after they went to bed, Castiel was up all night thinking about what she had said.

The early morning sun shone through the window where they had forgotten to shut the blinds the night before. The light was harsh against Jo’s eyes causing her to wake much earlier than she’d hoped. She groaned in frustration and rolled out of Dean’s bed to shut the blinds – she had planned to sleep in at least a couple more hours. As she was getting to her feet, Dean stretched his arm out into she space where she’d been lying and murmured into the pillow, “Where ya going, Cas?” Jo froze but failed to suppress a laugh. “Oh god, you have got it _bad_ ,” she sniggered. Dean just buried his head deeper into his pillow.

On the other side of the room, Castiel was lying in his bed pretending to be asleep. He smiled into his pillow at Dean’s sleepy comment, before falling back into a light slumber until he was awoken again by Jo throwing a sock at his face, and Dean playing that Asia song in his ear.  Castiel sat up reluctantly, tangled up in his duvets, and ran his knuckles over his day old stubble.

“We’re going for brunch and coffee before I make the drive home,” said Jo, pulling on her boots.

“You coming?” Dean asked.

Castiel couldn’t help thinking that Dean looked hopeful. “Sure. Just give me ten minutes to get ready and I’ll meet you there.”

Dean had a stupid grin on his face, and Castiel felt an urge to walk over and kiss it off. Jo interrupted that thought when she dragged Dean out the door with a “see you soon” to Castiel.

Castiel met them soon after at the college coffee shop, so originally named _Campus Coffee_. Dean and Jo were laughing at something when he dropped himself into the seat next to Dean, who casually informed him that he’d already ordered Cas’ usual for him. Castiel thought about how they’d only had breakfast here twice before and Dean had remembered what he’d ordered both times.

As they ate, Jo told Dean about a curly-haired, blonde girl who had been at the Winchester household with Sam the last time Jo had been over. Dean made a mental note to text his brother about this new mystery girl who he’d apparently been making “lovey eyes” at, as Jo put it. “Kinda like you and Cas,” she muttered under breath, pretending to cough afterwards. Castiel choked on his mouthful of pancake, mid-swallow, and Dean kicked Jo’ shin under the table.

                                                                                             ---------------------------------

When it was time for Jo to head back she hugged both Castiel and Dean before heading back to her car. Once she was gone, Castiel and Dean strolled around the campus grounds in search for a spot in the grass to laze the afternoon away on. They spread out on their stomachs, arms pressed against one another. Castiel was reading Slaughterhouse-five while Dean read Animal Farm.  

“So,” Dean cleared his throat. “Animal Farm is an allegory… of the Russian Revolution?”

Castiel propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Dean. The late afternoon sun was reflecting off Castiel’s cobalt eyes. Dean thought he looked beautiful right then, with his day old stubble and his unruly hair. “Yes, the farm is Russia, and Napoleon represents Stalin.”

Dean nodded dreamily, still studying Castiel’s face. Castiel began to do the same with Dean. He cursed the golden light of the fall afternoon for accentuating the freckles that peppered Dean’s nose and those god damn green eyes. How was he expected to refrain from kissing Dean when he was lying next to him looking like that? He reluctantly turned his attention back to the book Dean had given him. Dean watched Cas’ profile as he read; he observed the way his brows knit in concentration, and how he covered the paragraphs with his hand to prevent himself from reading ahead. Castiel could see Dean watching him from his peripheral vision. A few moments later, he realized he’d been reading the same sentence over and over again. Frustrated, Castiel placed the book down on top of the grass and rolled onto his back. He chewed on his bottom lip, and watched the sun shine through the foliage above him. _Maybe I should just make a move_ , he thought. Castiel didn’t think Dean would, even if he liked Cas back, saying as he’d never done it before. And what if Jo was wrong? Had Dean actually told her that? He sighed.

“What’s the word, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice low.

“It’s a shortened version of my name,” Castiel returned. 

Dean pulled a face. “Funny.” Then, his voice turned more serious. “Seriously though, you seem kinda upset all of a sudden.”

“I’m fine, Dean.” Castiel reassured. He got to his feet. “I’m going to the library to study for a while.”

Dean frowned, watching Cas wipe the grass off of his legs. “Oh, ok.”

“Will you be at Bela’s party tonight?”  Castiel took a deep breath, waiting for Dean’s answer.

“Yup,” Dean replied, maneuvering himself into a sitting position. Castiel nodded quickly, and turned on his heel to walk away. “Will you?” Dean blurted.

"I will." 


	5. Chapter 5

Dean arrived at Bela’s around 8.30pm and immediately began searching for Cas, who had somehow managed to avoid him since that afternoon. Dean could tell something had been on Castiel’s mind and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Maybe he could help him. After spending ten minutes pushing through the crowds of people laughing and dancing, with no sight of Cas, Dean concluded that he probably just wasn’t there yet. He gave up and went over to talk to some people from one of his classes.

A while later, Dean spotted Castiel walk in with a short, dark-haired girl that he recognized as Meg. She had joined in on their party games a few times before, and Dean hadn’t quite decided how he felt about her yet.  He crossed the room towards them, greeting Castiel with a ruffle of his hair. Castiel scowled and ran his long fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it but only made it worse. Dean grinned with pride. Castiel was wearing a white button down which hugged his arms and chest, and black jeans. Dean inhaled sharply at the sight. There was an awkward silence.

“Well,” Meg piped up. “I’m going to go find us some drinks.” She sauntered off into the kitchen, leaving Dean and Castiel alone and staring at each other.

“Let’s go outside,” Dean said, breaking the silence. He took Castiel’s clammy hand in his and led him out the front door. They walked down the hallway in silence, hand in hand, and when they were stood in the elevator, Castiel turned to Dean. “What are you doi-”

But Dean pushed Castiel up against the elevator mirror, cutting him off with his mouth. It took Castiel a moment to register what was happening before he reciprocated the kiss, parting his lips to let Dean in. Dean’s hands were cupping the sides of his face, fingers carding through the locks of hair behind his ears. A few moments later Dean broke off, panting. He felt drunk, despite having nothing to drink.

“Sorry,” he breathed.

Castiel stared at him, his eyes wide. “I thought you were straight.” That’s not what he wanted to say, but he was lost for words.

“Well, apparently I’m not.” Dean pressed his forehead against the mirror. He was having trouble reading Castiel’s reaction.  The elevator halted and the doors began to slide open. Castiel reached across and pressed the button for a random floor number, leaving them sealed away again. Next, he slammed the emergency stop button. Oblivious to Castiel’s actions, Dean continued, “And apparently I also have the hots for my r-”

This time it was Castiel’s turn to cut Dean off, driving him backwards against the mirror, his palms pressed flat against his chest. He brushed his lips over Dean’s, his breath hot, and Dean closed the final space between them. He moved his hands to Castiel’s butt, pulling his hips against his own. Castiel ran his tongue over Dean’s bottom lip who parted his lips, letting him in. Then, he was grinding his hips against Dean’s, already desperate for friction, causing Dean to moan breathily into his mouth.  Dean broke away from Castiel’s lips, moving away from the mirror, and began trailing hot, wet kisses along his jaw and under his ear. Castiels’ eyelashes fluttered at the touch, and he dug his nails into Dean’s chest. As Dean dragged his mouth along Castiel’s neck, nipping and biting, he walked him backwards towards the opposite wall. When Castiel’s back hit the wall, Dean interlocked fingers with his, and pinned his hands at the sides of his head, against the wall. He leaned in to suck another mark on his neck, but Castiel ducked his head and caught Dean’s lips with his own. His jeans were becoming very tight around his crotch, and Dean must have caught on because he unlaced one hand from Castiel’s and moved it down to press against him. Castiel’s breath hitched and he thrust into Dean’s hand.

“Dean…” Castiel begged.

“Never done this before…” Dean panted. “Wanna make it good, Cas.”

“It will be,” Castiel purred.  

Dean took his other hand away from Castiel’s and began fumbling with his button and zipper. He sunk to his knees, moving his hands to grip Castiel’s hips. Castiel rolled his hips, desperate for touch, while Dean pulled down Castiel’s jeans, before tugging at his boxers to release his cock. Dean’s breath was hot against Castiel as he peered up at him through his lashes. His heart was hammering a tattoo into his ribs as he thought about what he liked when it came to blowjobs. Then his tongue was licking up the underside of Castiel’s cock, before toying with the slit when he reached the tip. A contented noise escaped Castiel’s throat as he placed his hands on Dean’s head, tugging at his short, sandy hair. He thrust into Dean’s mouth, who pinned his hips back against the wall, before wrapping his mouth around Castiel’s cock and taking him in. He ran his tongue along his cock as he bobbed his head up and down. Castiel breathed Dean’s name with every roll of his hips. Soon his hips began to stutter and he felt the familiar rise of heat low in his stomach.

“Dean,” he panted. “I’m gonna-” Castiel came in Dean’s mouth and he swallowed it all. The moan Castiel released as he came caused Dean’s erection to twitch. He let go of Castiel’s softening cock and rested his forehead against his hard, flat stomach, letting out a breathy chuckle.

“ _Love in an elevator_ ,” he crooned, tucking Castiel back into his boxers.

“Wow,” Castiel laughed, sated. His muscles felt lax as he slid down to Dean’s level on the floor. Dean leaned in for a slow, sloppy kiss, Castiel parting his legs so Dean could crawl between them. A few moments later, Castiel began unbuttoning Dean’s jeans, who was still hard.

“Your turn,” Castiel purred into Dean’s ear.

By the time Dean and Castiel were finished with each other, the elevator mirror was steamed up and the tiny room reeked of sex. Castiel brought the elevator back to life while Dean wiped the condensation off part of the mirror so that he could fix himself before returning to the party. His lips were red and his hair was all mussed up. He made an attempt to style his hair back into place and smooth down his crinkled shirt, but there was nothing he could do about his lips.

As they walked out the elevator into the hallway brimming with partygoers from Bela’s, Castiel lifted his head slightly to Dean’s ear and murmured, his voice gravelly, “I feel sorry for whoever goes in there next.”

Dean smiled dopily, snaking his arm around Castiel’s waist and pulling him into his side. 

Soon after they’d immersed themselves back into the crowd, Meg spotted them and marched over to them, glaring at them the whole way. Castiel stared back, sheepishly, while Dean avoided her gaze.

“Thanks for ditching, ho nuggets,” she drawled, shoving a beer at Castiel’s chest.

Dean screwed his face up in confusion. “Ho nuggets?”

Meg shot a glance at Dean, before turning back to Castiel. “Isn’t hiding a little bit childish, Clarence?”

“We weren’t hiding,” Castiel responded. “We had something we needed to…do.” He wavered off at the end, swallowing awkwardly.

Meg eyed the two of them suspiciously, amusement evident in her face. She turned on her heel and made her way to where people were dancing, the boys in tow.

“She didn’t get me a drink,” Dean sulked. Castiel smirked, stopping to face Dean. He lifted his beer bottle to Dean’s parted lips, who kept his gaze on Castiel as he poured the bitter liquid into his mouth. As Dean was leaning in to steal a kiss, Meg turned around.

“By the way, you’re both covered in hickeys,” she simpered.

The rest of the night was filled with stolen kisses, surprised gapes from classmates and annoying remarks from Meg, who was having a lot of fun. And when Castiel went to bed that night with Dean's lips pressed against his neck, he might have fallen asleep with a smile plastered across his face. Dean might have done the same. 


	6. Chapter 6

Later the next week, Castiel awoke disgruntled to some old rock song booming from Dean’s speakers.

_He picks up a bus and he throws it back down…_

 “Dean, why?” he groaned, pressing his pillow against his ears.

“ _Ohhhhh_ _no, they say he’s got to go go go, GODZILLA.”_ Dean’s voice was husky as he sang. He peered up at Castiel, grinning brightly while he tied the laces on his boots. “Sorry Cas, I got class and you know this is how I prepare myself for the day,” he teased.

Castiel glowered at Dean, making him laugh.

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

“Shut up,” Castiel retorted, throwing a pillow at Dean, who dodged it instinctively. He was used to having stuff thrown at him in the mornings by now. Castiel _really_ wasn’t a morning person. Dean laughed again, standing from his bed and pulling on his leather jacket. As he was opening the door, he stopped and looked back at Castiel, his expression more serious.

“Uh, listen, Cas…” he began, scratching at his stubble. “My mom’s coming down this afternoon with Sammy and I, uh… haven’t told them I’m bi yet, so…” he trailed off.

Castiel nodded understandingly. “Don’t grope you in front of your mother and little brother. Got it.”

Dean smiled, relief washing over him. “Awesome.” He stepped out the door, slamming the door behind him.

Castiel decided he might as well get out of bed and dragged his feet over to Dean’s sound system. After changing the album to _The Bends_ by Radiohead, he plodded over to his desk and opened his laptop. There was a sticky note hanging from the top of the screen. It read:

_Don’t you dare think about it, I know you were up past 4am writing an essay again. –D_

Castiel tried to suppress a smile. He scrunched up the note, throwing it into the bin by his desk, and blinked wearily at his screen. After about a minute of consideration, he decided to take Dean’s advice. He leaned back in his chair and rested his eyes, falling asleep in that position.

A few hours later, Dean burst through the door, jolting Castiel awake. Dean gawked at Castiel, who was still in only his pajama bottoms at lunch time. He raised an eyebrow.

“Really, Cas?”

“I must have fallen back asleep,” Castiel croaked, rubbing at his eyes.

“No shit.” Dean crossed the room to where Castiel was sitting and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Dude, you really have to start going to bed at decent times. You’re no good at college if you can’t even stay awake during the day.” His voice was tinged with concern, and Castiel suddenly felt bad.

“I can think of a few ways you can help with that,” Castiel teased.

Dean licked his lips, dreamily. He nodded his agreement and bent down to meet Castiel’s lips. Castiel melted into the kiss, and they remained like that for a few moments until Dean pulled back to rest his forehead against Castiel’s.

“Cas…what is this?” he said, quietly. “’cause it doesn’t really feel like a ‘roommates with benefits’ thing to me. I mean, if it is just- just let me know and I’ll back off-”

Castiel pulled his head back and locked eyes with Dean. “No, I feel the same, Dean,” he reassured.

“Good.” Dean hesitated for a moment. “I really like you, Cas.” He froze, waiting for Castiel’s reaction.

“I don’t mind you,” Castiel joked, leaning in for another slow kiss, and Dean’s body relaxed again.

A few moments later, there was a knock on their door. Dean broke away from Castiel and stood from his crouching position by his chair.

“That’ll be my mom,” he said, his voice low. Castiel nodded and rushed over to his wardrobe to pull on a shirt.

Dean strode over to the door and pulled it open, greeting his little brother with a bear hug, then his mom with a gentler hug.  Castiel watched the exchange from the other end of the room, feeling a pang of affection for Dean.  

“Guys, this is Castiel. My roommate,” said Dean, gesturing to Castiel.  He had faltered slightly on the last word. “And Cas, this is my mom, Mary, and my brother, Sammy.”

“Hi,” Sam smiled, shaking hands with Castiel, who had strode over to greet Dean’s family.  “It’s Sam, by the way,” he added, correcting Dean. Castiel thought Sam looked very different to Dean with his long, dark hair flopping over his brown eyes.

When Castiel turned to greet Mary, she pulled him into a tight hug, catching him by surprise.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Castiel,” she beamed.  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mary,” Castiel smiled, returning the hug after a moment’s hesitation.

Dean rolled his eyes at Castiel’s formality, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards ever so slightly. When Castiel and Mary let go of each other he ushered his family back out the door, ignoring Mary’s protests about not getting to see his room properly ("It looks the same as last time but with posters, mom"). He shot Castiel a glance on his way out, and Castiel stared back, unsure of what Dean’s look meant. He thought Dean looked anxious.

Dean sat at a small, round table in _Campus Coffee_ opposite Sam, while their mother ordered food at the counter. He drummed his fingers against the wood of the table erratically, shaking his leg under the table.

“Dude, you’re making the table shake,” Sam complained. He watched Dean, who had ignored him, with a quizzical expression for another few moments before rolling his eyes dramatically and kicking Dean’s shin under the table. Dean stopped drumming and looked at Sam, avoiding eye contact. Eventually, he let out a low whistle, gesturing towards Sam.

“Has mom been putting fertilizer in your freakin’ food or something?” Dean attempted half-heartedly at a joke. “You’re shooting up like a frigging… sunflower.”

Sam scoffed at Dean’s terrible attempt at avoiding a feelings conversation. When Mary reached their table with coffees and snacks, Dean made sure to give his pie his undivided attention, ignoring the perplexed glances his family gave him. Dean knew now would be a good time to tell them about Castiel and his sexuality. He also knew the chances were that they’d be accepting of it, but he was still so nervous.

“Castiel seems nice,” said Mary, softly.

Dean looked up from his empty plate and cleared his throat. “Yeah, he’s cool.”

“What is up with you, Dean?” Sam grilled.

Dean slumped back in his chair, exhaling loudly. “I, uh… need to tell you guys something.”

Both Sam and Mary waited patiently, searching Dean’s face for any clues of what he was about to declare. Dean inhaled sharply before blurting, “So basically, um, me and Cas are kinda a… a thing. As in bisexual- I’m bisexual.” He held his breath as soon as he finished, turning to stare out the window, his jaw working. He felt his mom’s hand on his forearm, stroking soothingly.

“Is that what you were getting all worked up about, Dean?” she asked, gently. When her hands ran over Dean’s hand he realized they had balled up into fists. He relaxed his hands, allowing himself to look back at his small family.

Sam was smiling at Dean, an amused expression on his face. “Is that it?” He said.

“You guys are ok with it?” Dean asked.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sam replied.

Dean looked down at the table, studying the patterns in the wood, and shrugged. Sam shot a quick glance at Mary, hesitating before he asked, “Is it because of some of the things dad said?”

“Dad’s gone,” Dean barked.

“I know he’s gone Dean, that’s my point. It doesn’t matter what he said,” Sam sighed.

Dean looked up at his mother who was toying with her purse, disengaged from the conversation.  “We’re sorry, mom,” he said, sheepishly. Mary looked up, smiling softly.

“I know, Dean.” She leaned back across the table to place her hand on Dean’s. “John was never perfect, and whatever he said to make you feel like you couldn’t be accepted by us because of your sexuality, he was wrong.”

“Thanks,” Dean replied, his voice slightly hoarse.  There was a pause before Dean turned his attention to Sam, desperate to change the subject. “Hey Sammy, who’s this chick I’ve been hearing about from Jo?”

Sam was trying his best to keep a straight face but Dean could see straight through it. Eventually he caved in, letting a dopey smile spread across his face. “Her name’s Jess.”

Dean couldn’t explain how relieved he was to see how happy Sam looked when speaking about Jess. He worried about his little brother constantly, especially since he’d moved away for college and left him behind. Sam had needed his big brother a lot in the last few years especially when panic attacks had decided to take over his life, as if losing his father wasn’t already enough. If Sam hadn’t insisted he was fine without him, Dean would have passed the opportunity of going to college. He listened intently while Sam spoke about his first date with Jess; Mary smiling at her two boys growing up.

Once Sam and Mary had set off again on the journey home, Dean couldn’t help thinking to himself how everything seemed to be falling into place for him at college. _Finally_ , he thought. He brought out his phone to text Castiel, as he wandered back to the halls.

**D: I told them, they’re cool with it**

Castiel replied a few minutes later.

**C: That’s great!**

Dean couldn’t help smiling at his phone.

 

\-----------------------

 

Dean found Castiel in the library a few hours later, his head in a book on the origin of life and the universe. Dean plopped himself in the seat opposite him and Castiel peered up from his book.

“Thought I might find you here,” Dean smiled.

Castiel waited for an explanation for Dean’s appearance, but when he got none he spoke. “Do you need something, Dean?”

“You.”

Castiel flattened his book against the table, his attention won by Dean.

“Come on, you’re doing college wrong,” Dean teased.

 Castiel raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face. He leaned forward over the table, his mouth inches from Dean’s.  “Excuse me; I thought college was studying for a degree. Please enlighten me on the real purpose of college.”

“It’s for getting drunk and…laid,” Dean breathed.

Castiel nodded slowly, the butterflies in his stomach going crazy. “Will you show me?”

Dean licked his lips, his eyes locked on Castiel’s mouth. He nodded hastily, and Castiel moved back, standing from his chair. He watched Castiel return the book to its shelf and stood himself, knocking his chair against another behind it and stumbling over a table leg as he moved away. _Smooth, Winchester_.

“So, what are we doing first? Getting drunk or getting laid?” Castiel said, walking back over to Dean. Some other students had started to look up from their books, listening to the conversation.

“Uh...” Dean fumbled for words, eyes tracing up and down Castiel’s body. Castiel chuckled at Dean’s sudden inability to form sentences and grabbed the sleeve of Dean’s leather jacket, pulling him behind a bookshelf in a quiet corner of the room. Then before Dean knew it, he was being pressed up against the folk lore section of the library with Castiel’s lips exploring his jaw and the skin underneath his earlobe. He knocked his head back, causing a book to fall through the other side of the shelf.

“Dude, are you even trying to be discreet,” Dean panted. Castiel didn’t reply, but moved his mouth to Dean’s, who parted his lips, giving Castiel better access. Eventually he whispered into Dean’s mouth, “Let’s go get drunk,” and grabbed his hand, leading him out the library.

They walked through the campus, hand in hand, shoulders bumping every so often. The stars were coming out already, causing Dean to feel nostalgic for the long summer nights. Castiel squeezed his hand, swinging their arms between them. It still felt strange to Dean being so intimate with another man, or even person for that matter, but no one else had ever made him feel the way Castiel does, as cliché as it sounds. When they reached the door to their room, Dean pinned Castiel against it, leaning in for another kiss. He fumbled with the key in the lock, while nuzzling Castiel’s neck.

“If you let go of me for one second, you might find that a lot easier,” Castiel teased.

“I don’t want to.”

Eventually Dean got the door open, pushing Castiel in backwards and swung it shut with his foot.  Reluctantly, he let go to grab a couple beers from their mini fridge. He opened them both and passed one to Castiel, who pulled him in against his body. “You have no idea how relieved I am to just be able to kiss you whenever I want now,” he murmured, before leaning in to suck on Dean’s bottom lip. They made their way to Dean’s bed, Castiel placing himself between Dean’s legs, facing him. 

“What about your family, Cas?” Dean wondered, taking a swig of his beer.

“Huh?”

“They haven’t came to visit you yet, you haven’t gone home,” Dean elaborated. “You don’t really talk about them.”

Castiel fidgeted with the label of his beer bottle, pensively. Dean knocked his knee against his arm, gently, bringing his attention back to Dean.  “You don’t have to say anything about it,” he reassured.

“My brother, Gabe, left home as soon as he turned 16. I don’t see him,” Castiel began. “And my sister, Anna, can’t travel.” Castiel’s throat began to close up as he spoke. Dean sensed the strain in his voice and leaned forward to place a hand on his knee. “She has leukemia,” Castiel eventually finished.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Dean breathed, ducking his head and toying with the ends of Castiel’s jeans. Then, he returned his gaze to Castiel’s eyesand saw his eyelashes were damp. After a moment’s hesitation he finally plucked up the courage to ask, “Cas, please don’t take offense by this, and you don’t have to answer, but… what are you doing here? At college I mean?”

Castiel studied Dean’s face for a moment, his head tilted. “Our dad made me come here… so I’d be away from them. I’m not supposed to visit.” His voice was tinged with bitterness now. Dean couldn’t understand. What could Castiel have done to be cut off from his family like that? Castiel brought his beer to his lips and gulped down half the bottle in one go.

“Why?” Dean burst out.

“What?” Castiel narrowed his eyes.

“Why would he do that to you? How could he do that to you when your sister-” Dean choked on his words at the end. His eyes began to burn.

“Because I’m gay,” Castiel deadpanned.

“What?” Dean whispered.

“’lying with mankind as with womankind: it is abomination’” Castiel quoted, as if it had been drilled into him.

“What ever happened to love thy fucking neighbor?” Dean barked. He felt so angry towards Castiel’s father, despite having never met him.

Castiel shrugged, bringing his beer back to his lips and emptying the bottle.  “I don’t really want to talk anymore,” he muttered.

“That’s okay, Cas,” Dean spoke softly. “We don’t have to talk.” He took Castiel’s bottle and placed it on the floor with his own relatively untouched bottle. Then he pulled Castiel forward to be leaning on top of him, his head resting against his chest, and wrapped his arms around him. Castiel gripped Dean’s shirt and shut his eyes, feeling Dean’s warmth against him.

“Sorry for putting such a downer on the night, man,” Dean scoffed, a few minutes later, but Castiel was already taken under by sleep, drained from his late nights. “Fuck, Cas, what are you doing to me?” he whispered into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Dean was listening to is 'Godzilla' by Blue Oyster Cult.


	7. Chapter 7

The next Friday night, Dean and Castiel were sat side by side against Charlie’s bed with her, Benny, Ash and Andy surrounding them. Charlie had seven different DVD cases sprawled out on the floor, deciding which one to put on as the basis of their drinking game.

“How about _Fight Club_?” Benny suggested from where he was leaning against Charlie’s wardrobe.

Dean and Ash voiced their agreement, so Charlie set up the film and began making up rules for the drinking game. “First rule of drinking club,” she joked, “is that you drink whenever someone gets punched in the face.” Andy was too enthralled in setting up his bong to be paying attention.

As per usual, the game was abandoned halfway through the movie as everyone became distracted by conversation. After the conversation began to die down, Charlie turned to Dean and Castiel, who had slowly inched closer and closer to each other throughout the night until Castiel was practically in Dean’s lap.  Charlie shot a pointed look at their position and gave them a prideful smile. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Dean said, feigning innocence.

“When did this happen?” Charlie waved a hand between the two teenage boys.

Castiel had started blushing and was looking at his hands.

“Maybe if you hadn’t been too busy with your new girlfriend recently to hang out with us you’d have noticed,” Dean pointed out lightheartedly.   Charlie rolled her eyes. After a pause, to answer her question, he added, “few weeks ago.” Charlie seemed to be gaining way too much enjoyment from this for Dean’s comfort. She sprang forward to be sitting in both Cas and Dean’s laps, hugging them both. Castiel chuckled softly, still blushing. Dean was blushing too now.

“Congratulations, compadres!” Ash grinned.

“Not gonna lie brother, I thought you guys were already a couple when I first saw you at that party,” Benny said, smiling. Dean discerned the word ‘couple’. Is that what he and Cas are? Everyone turned to Andy, who was stoned. He gave them a thumbs up from both hands, and Dean smirked.

Castiel still hadn’t said anything since this conversation had started. “You okay, buddy?” Dean murmured into Castiel’s ear. Castiel smiled at the warmth of Dean’s breath against this neck, and nodded. “Yes.”

Gradually, the conversation veered back to general college stuff, and when ‘Where is my Mind’ by Pixies broke out in the movie, and the end credits started rolling, Charlie turned off the laptop.

When Castiel and Dean got back to their room, they spent the rest of the night making out lazily on Dean’s bed, until Castiel fell asleep curled up in Dean’s side. Dean lay awake after that, thinking. Since Castiel had told him about his sister, he’d found it hard not to think about it or bring it up to Cas, but so far he’d managed to remain quiet about it. He wanted to help, so desperately. The thought of Sammy dying, and Dean not being able to see him, hurt so much that he had to block the idea from his mind. He felt such bitterness towards the homophobic son-of-a-bitch that called himself Cas’ father. And where was this brother who had gone AWOL?  Was he visiting Anna? Does he know?  Dean eventually dozed off, his clenched fists relaxing in his sleep.

* * *

 

Dean awoke to the smell of coffee. Castiel was standing over his bed, holding a takeout cup of coffee under his nose. His chapped lips curled up slightly. “I thought that would wake you.” Dean sat up, entangled in his duvets, and took the coffee cup, struggling to open his eyes properly. His hair stood up like porcupine spikes all over his head. Castiel reached out and smoothed Dean’s hair down, leaving his hand there a beat longer than necessary, and Dean took his hand, pulling him onto the bed with him.

“Watch the coffee!”

“Let’s go see your sister today,” Dean blurted.

“What?”

Dean inhaled sharply, and shrugged, trying to act casual about it. In reality, he had been terrified to propose the idea to Cas. “I have the impala. We can drive down. Is she at your home?” Dean spoke quickly.

“Are you crazy?”

“I can’t let him cut you off like that, from your home, your family!” Dean burst out, throwing his hand in the air that held his coffee, causing the hot liquid to splash onto his thigh. He hissed at the pain, and stood abruptly to place the cup on his desk. Castiel watched him with a bewildered expression, head tilted. He hadn’t realized Dean cared so much about the subject, about him. Or was Cas misreading this?

“Are you suggesting I just waltz into my father’s home, after he kicked me out, after he called me an abomination, with my _–_ ” Castiel wasn’t sure what word he meant to use, “and expect him to let us just go and see Anna?” his voice was more gravelly than usual, and Dean had to remind himself that now was really not a good time to feel slightly aroused.

“Of course not,” Dean retorted, “What… what stage is Anna at with her… leukemia? Could- could she come out and meet us somewhere, or maybe we could climb through her window and just be really carefu-”

“She’s basically bed-ridden; she’s too tired to go out already.”

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, taking in a long, shaky breath. “Fuck.”

“Dean, it’s okay,” Castiel lied. “I call her most nights, we talk until she’s too tired to say anymore.”

“You do?”

Castiel nodded.

“I never noticed.”

“I like to do it alone. I walk to the woods or something, and I- I usually go get drunk afterwards,” Castiel admitted, scoffing at himself.

“Jesus, Cas. You hid this so well.”

Castiel shrugged. “I just find it easier to pretend everything’s normal.”

Dean shook his head sadly, his pretty face crinkled up in confusion. “I always assumed you were out with Charlie or Meg or something.”

Castiel turned his gaze to his feet. He was still sitting on the bed, running his hands along Dean’s duvet broodingly. Dean strode back over to his bed, perching next to Castiel and placed a firm hand on the small of his back, rubbing circles. Castiel leaned into the touch, and then rested his head against Dean’s shoulder. They let the silence take over for a few minutes before Cas quietly muttered, “fuck it.” Dean craned his neck to look at Castiel. “What’s that, Cas?”

“I said ‘fuck it’”, Castiel repeated. “It’s not just my father holding me back, Dean, it’s me. I need to face it. My father goes on business trips frequently, leaving carers with my sister. I can find out when he’s next away.”

“Your dad _leaves_ her?”

Castiel felt ashamed. Ashamed of his father. Ashamed of himself. Ashamed of his brother who had fucked off to God knows where and so far hasn’t made the effort to visit Anna. But that was him being hypocritical. Ashamed of himself again. Eventually, Castiel spoke in a small voice, “it’s just so fucking messed up. What sort of a fucking family are we to Anna?” Castiel didn’t usually swear, and when he did Dean knew it was serious. He pulled Cas further into his arms, reassuringly. “She’s fucking dying and we’ve all abandoned her!” Castiel choked. He broke into sobs, his shoulders shaking.

“You were pushed away, made to feel like she was better off without you. You were scared, man,” Dean said with conviction. “Yeah, this has been shitty for Anna, but you can still make it less shitty for her. It’s not too late yet, Cas. You can’t let anything hold you back. She’s family.”

Castiel nodded, and resolved to call Anna that day, find out when their father’s next business trip was. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, but Dean moved them away replacing them with his own gentler thumb, wiping the tears away. Then, Dean dropped his forehead against Castiel’s and just held him there for a few minutes, whispering comforts to Castiel.  After a while, in an attempt to lighten the mood he made a joke about Castiel’s mascara running, and Cas laughed halfheartedly. He locked eyes with Castiel who stared back unfalteringly, and felt his throat go dry. “How long have we known each other, Cas?”

“A few months, I guess,” Castiel narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

Dean hesitated for a long moment. “Just wondering how long it took me to fall for you.” He held his breath, as soon as he finished his sentence.

Castiel smiled and leaned in for a kiss, allowing Dean to relax. “It only took me five minutes.”

“Hey, this isn’t a competition.”

Castiel’s smile widened. “I’m so glad I got roomed with you.”

“Me too, Cas.”

Later that afternoon, Castiel pulled on his black converse and creased trench coat and set off towards the woods at the edge of the campus. As he reached the entrance to the woods, he brought out his phone and dialed his sister’s number. The phone rang a few times before Anna answered.

“ _Castiel_?”

“Hello, Anna,” Castiel smiled into the receiver. Hearing her voice was always such a relief to him.

“ _You just called yesterday, is everything okay?”_ she sounded concerned. With the way Anna spoke to Castiel sometimes, you’d think he was the one in her position.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“ _What is it?”_

 _“_ I wanted to ask you when father’s next business trip is.”

“ _What? Why?”_

“When he’s next gone I’m going to come and see you Anna. I’m so sorry I took me so long.”

There was a pause.

“Anna?”

“ _Really?”_ she sounded so genuinely surprised; it felt like a punch to Castiel’s gut.

“Yes.” Castiel flinched when he heard his voice crack. He wandered over to a tall tree, kicking up the thick layers of gold and red leaves on the ground. On the other end of the line he could hear rustling as Anna got up to look for their dad’s diary. When she spoke again, she sounded out of breath.  “ _It says here he’s away for a couple days next week in New York_.”

“I’ll be there.” He faltered for a second before continuing. “This is all going to change. I promise. I haven’t been a good brother to you. I’m sorry.” When he reached the tree he leaned back against it, sliding down into a crouching position.

“ _Stop apologizing_ ,” Anna responded softly. “ _I’m just glad you’re finally coming to see me_.”

Castiel ran a hand through his hair, sighing in relief. It wasn’t too late. Dean was right. He could make it up to her still, make everything a little less shitty for her, before-

“ _Castiel?”_ Anna’s voice had changed; she sounded weary.

“Yes, Anna?”

“ _I’m feeling really tired- I think I need to go.”_ Castiel sensed the guilt and the frustration in her voice. He nodded understandingly, and when he remembered she couldn’t see him he encouraged her to get some rest, promising again that he would see her next week.

“ _The 14 th_,” she said, before hanging up.

Phone calls with Anna always left Castiel feeling emotionally drained. They’d start off filling him with relief from hearing her voice and they’d talk about normal stuff usually, like nothing was wrong. But then every phone call would end with a reminder of Anna’s condition, hearing the breathlessness in her voice; the exhaustion. Castiel couldn’t help feeling glad that he didn’t have to see how pale she was becoming, how frail. He knew it was a selfish feeling. Soon, however, he will see it.  Castiel knows it’s going to be a shock.

* * *

 

Dean decided to actually cook himself dinner in the communal kitchen that he’d neglected for once. He felt bad for dredging up Castiel’s family issues to him that morning when he probably just wanted a peaceful day off from classes. Since Cas had left to call his sister, Dean hadn’t seen him for the rest of the day and had figured he probably needed space. He decided he would cook enough for Castiel too in case he came back, and he told himself not to bring up Anna for the rest of the day. If Castiel had managed to hide it so well for the last couple months, then he obviously didn’t like to talk about it.

As Dean entered the kitchen, he nodded at some students he recognized from neighboring dorm rooms to his and proceeded to grab the utensils and ingredients he needed to cook spaghetti bolognaise. He put in his headphones, playing _Hey Jude_ , a tendency for him when he was thinking of home, and began washing and peeling a carrot.

He began to replay the last few weeks in his mind, back to Bela’s party in the elevator and how afterwards they slipped naturally into this parity with each other, without even talking about the affair. Only now was Dean starting to really contemplate what he and Cas are. Are they a couple, like Benny thought? One day they just started kissing and doing couple stuff like holding hands, and sharing a bed- _well_ , they already did that before- like it was natural, like they _were_ a couple. Hell, Dean had only just discovered his bisexuality, and it already felt so natural that he’d hardly thought about it. And when Castiel finally admitted his familial situation to Dean, he was shocked by how much he cared, how much it bothered him.

Dean realized he was over analyzing it all, and pushed his rambling thoughts to the back of his mind, proceeding to slice an onion.  When he’d finished cooking and cleaning up, he hurried to his dorm with two plates of spaghetti in his hands. At the door, he moved one plate onto his arm beside the plate in that hands, like he was some classy waiter, and cracked the door open to look for Castiel in the room. He spotted him on his bed hunched over his leather book, sketching away. Castiel looked up to see him walking in with his back straight and shoulders set back, the two plates still balancing on one arm.

“Spaghetti a la bolognaise?” Dean said in a posh accent when he reached Castiel, who looked baffled.

“You cooked?” he didn’t mean to sound so surprised.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, dropping the waiter impression. “If you don’t want it, or already ate or whatever, I can-”

“Thank you,” Castiel interrupted, smiling gratefully. He placed his sketch book down and took the plate balancing on Dean’s forearm. Dean handed him a fork and sat down beside him on the bed. Castiel hadn’t taken Dean for a good cook, but he really was.

“Dean, this is so good,” he said around a mouthful of pasta.

Dean ducked his head, blushing. “It’s just spaghetti, man.”

“Well, I’d like to give my compliments to the chef.”

“Just eat your spaghetti.”

Castiel smirked at Dean’s inability to take a compliment and continued eating. Once he’d finished and looked up from his plate, he realized Dean was staring at him pretty intensely. When he noticed he’d been caught, Dean snapped out of it, reaching to take Castiel’s empty plate from him. Cas watched him stack their plates and cutlery on his lap, waiting. After few moments of Dean staring at his hands on the plates, he spoke in an almost incoherently low voice.

“I, uh, I’ve never been in a relationship before,” he began. Castiel wondered where this was going. He watched Dean’s hands tighten on the plate. Dean continued, “By that I mean I’ve never really… _really_ _liked_ someone you know, just flings and then it’s over like a week later.” Castiel remained silent, processing Dean’s words. He still had no idea what Dean was trying to say.

“Are we…” Dean waved his hands in the air, almost knocking the crockery off his lap. “Fuck it, are we boyfriends?” he cringed immediately at the childishness of his words. Castiel failed to suppress a smile at Dean’s adorableness.

“Do you want to be?”

“Shit, Cas… yeah. I mean we make out often enough.”

Castiel chuckled softly and leaned in to press his lips against Dean’s, moving the crockery to the floor in a swift move. The next thing Dean knew, Castiel was straddling his lap, his arms hooked around his neck. Dean licked into Cas’ mouth, the taste of bolognaise still there. Then, Castiel pulled back and whispered, “We do, don’t we.” Dean nodded, leaning in for another kiss. He grabbed Castiel’s butt, pulling him closer against his body, and Cas responded by rolling his hips down onto him, eliciting a small gasp from Dean. They remained like that for a while, occasionally pulling away to breathe, knocking foreheads together.

They were rudely interrupted by an outbreak of ‘Smoke on the Water’, coming from Dean’s butt. Dean yanked his phone from his back pocket, shifting Castiel’s position on his lap, and glanced at the caller ID before sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.

“Sammy?” Dean held his breath.

Castiel squirmed in Dean’s lap, burying his head in the crook of his neck.

“ _Dean- I’m at the movies with Jess, and I haven’t kissed her yet but I think this is the date where I’m supposed to and I really want to but I don’t know how-”_ Sam babbled, hardly taking a moment to breathe.

Dean heaved a sigh of relief, interrupting Sam’s ramblings, and dropped his head to rest on Castiel’s shoulder. It had become habit for Dean to assume the worst when Sam called, since he began calling Dean in a state after suffering one of his panic attacks in the middle of town.

“ _Dean?”_

“Yeah, sorry. Uh, so Jess.” Castiel’s lips had found Dean’s neck now, nipping and sucking, and Dean was finding it hard to keep his voice steady.

“ _Yes, Dean. Jess. She could be back any second, so any help you’ve got would be appreciated right now, please_ ,” Sam begged, sounding slightly exasperated. Dean moved his phone to the other ear, making room for Castiel to explore.

“Are you walking her home after?”

“ _Yes.”_

“It’s simple Sammy, just like in the movies. You take her to her- ah- her door and you- _”_ Castiel rolled his hips down on Dean’s groin anda non-PG noise escaped the back of his throat.

“ _Dude, am I interrupting something_?” Sam interjected.

“What, no?” Dean’s erection was becoming too uncomfortable to ignore.

“ _You are so gross. I’ll figure this out myself_.” Dean could almost hear Sam’s bitch face in his voice. Just before Sam hung up, he managed to say, “Just like the movies, Samsquatch,” and he’s sure he hears a muffled ‘ _jerk_ ’ from the other line before it goes dead. He smiles at his phone before chucking it behind him on the bed and wrapping his arms around Castiel’s back to pick up where he left off. Castiel unlocks his arms from Dean’s neck, running them down his chest until he reaches the fly on his jeans. Dean kisses the side of Cas’ face, while he works on removing Dean’s jeans, then his boxers. He takes his shirt off himself, then Castiel’s.

“Bed,” Castiel growls, and Dean takes this to mean moving further up the bed. He wriggles backwards, his jeans sliding down his legs as he moves. Before he knows it, he’s been pushed to be lying on his back, and Cas is straddling his hips again, kissing the freckles on his shoulders. He moved along his collarbone, and down his chest to his navel, painfully slowly. Dean is a writhing mess under Castiel’s mouth, brushing his fingers through his unruly hair and tugging. Cas pays extra attention to the softer flesh under Dean’s bellybutton, his breath hot against the wet parts he’d kissed, creating a tingling sensation that caused Dean’s breath to hitch. Just as he was reaching Dean’s pelvis, Cas was being pulled back up to Dean’s mouth for a bruising kiss.

Everything stopped for a beat while Castiel locked eyes with Dean, his pupils blown wide with lust. Dean gazed back unblinking, his heart hammering a tattoo into his chest. Without thinking, he took Cas’ hand and placed it above his heart so he could feel it pounding and whispered, “see what you’re fucking doing to me.” Castiel’s eyes continued to search Dean’s before flickering down to his lips. He left his hand on Dean’s chest, ducking his head for the softest kiss they’d shared yet.

“Cas, please…” Dean pleaded, squirming underneath Castiel. Castiel slid back down Dean’s torso until his mouth hovered above his crotch. He waited a few seconds, peering up at Dean though his thick lashes. “You are the biggest tease I’ve ever met, you giant dick,” Dean groaned. Castiel chuckled softly, the sensation of his breath on Dean’s dick causing his hips to jerk upwards. Then, Castiel’s tongue was licking up the underside of Dean’s cock and the noise that escaped Dean’s throat could probably be heard by those next door. He didn’t care. Cas caught a bead of precome with his tongue, toying with the slit, before taking Dean down as far as he could go. It took all of Dean’s willpower not to thrust too hard, gripping the sheets until his knuckles were white. Castiel moved slowly, savoring every reaction he elicited from Dean. When Dean finally came, Castiel guided him through his orgasm, sucking him dry.

“Shit,” Dean breathed. Castiel crawled back up the bed to meet Dean’s lips again, before collapsing into his arms on top of him. Dean held Cas, running hands up and down his back.

Then, just as it began, the sweet moment ended when Dean rolled them over so that Castiel was lying under Dean, his mouth grazing Castiel’s chest. Castiel gripped Dean’s shoulders, letting go when he reached his navel. “I can’t believe you still have your jeans on,” Dean reprimanded playfully, fumbling with Cas’ fly. He pulled Castiel’s jeans down, past his butt, followed by his boxers, and slid himself between his legs, grappling his thighs. There were already beads of precome at the tip, and Dean brought his hand up, using it to slick Castiel’s cock. Castiel writhed at the touch, and he crawled back up to meet Cas’ lips with his. While his tongue darted into Castiel’s mouth, he returned one hand to his cock, stroking languidly.

“Dean,” Cas moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow.  Dean moved his mouth to Castiel’s ear, sucking at the sensitive skin underneath it. He ran his thumb over Cas’ slit, eliciting a small gasp, before dragging his lips down his body until they reached his cock, wrapping them around it. Castiel’s hips bucked as Dean took him down slowly, the wet heat around his dick sending waves of pleasure through his stomach. Dean’s hands roamed over Cas’ hips as he sucked, his fingers pressing into the bare skin, and Castiel was clawing Dean’s shoulders, wondering how he got so lucky. At one point, Dean paused to tongue the head and that’s when Castiel knew he was close. Moments later, his vision went blurry and he was coming into Dean’s mouth, Dean’s name falling from his lips. Dean planted a kiss in the juncture between Castiel’s hip and thigh, and rolled onto his side next to him. He gave Castiel his renowned dopey grin as Cas tangled their legs together under the duvets and pulled Dean’s body flush against his. They smiled into each other’s mouths, still drunk from pleasure.

“I don’t wanna ever leave this spot,” Castiel murmured into Dean’s skin, where he nuzzled his neck.

“I feel like that could get pretty disgusting pretty fast,” Dean responded with a crooked smile.

“You ruined it.” Castiel buried his face deeper into Dean’s neck, breathing him in.

“Sorry.”

They fell asleep like that, tangled up in each other’s arms, and Dean found himself late to class the next morning when he couldn’t bring himself to leave Castiel’s embrace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize i change tenses sometimes by mistake, so sorry about that. Also i haven't quite got a hang of the smutty stuff yet but hopefully its ok! Please leave any feedback if you have any :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a mistake when I posted the last chapter, and posted the same one twice, but here's a new one finally. Sorry about that!

Dean and Jo sat side by side on the floor, leaning against Dean’s bed. Dean had hardly touched his beer and must have been staring into space because when Jo nudged his foot with hers, he had no idea how long it had been since either of them had said anything.

“Dean, did you hear me?” Jo’s voice was soft, patient.

“Uh, no. Sorry, Jo,” Dean replied vacantly, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and drinking half the contents in an attempt to avoid conversation- something he didn’t need right now.

“I said, does Cas know?”

Dean reluctantly put the bottle down and stared at his hands. “He knows about dad. He, er… doesn’t know today is…” The anniversary of the crash.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Dean clenching and unclenching his fists, before he finally says, “I shouldn’t be here, Jo, I should be with Sammy and mom!”

“I know, I’m here to drive you home,” Jo responds, twining her and Dean’s hands together.

“Oh.”

Jo pulls Dean up from their spot on the floor where their hands are linked, and pushes him gently towards his wardrobe. “Go get some clothes and I’ll pack your toiletry bag.”

She leaves Dean staring at his wardrobe. Where was Cas again? He needed to tell Cas he was leaving for a bit. He pulled his phone from his pocket and began to dial Castiel’s number but when he realized he couldn’t face speaking right then, he cancelled that and opened a text instead.

**D: Going home for a couple days. I’ll explain later.**

Castiel replied before Dean had even moved to go find his duffel bag.

**C: Is everything ok??**

Dean didn’t know how to answer so he ignored the message and began hunting for his bag. He found it under his bed and threw his favorite Led Zeppelin shirt in, a grey Henley and a pair of jeans. He heard the familiar notes of _Smoke on the Water_ and saw that Castiel was trying to call him. He stared blankly at his phone screen for several beats.

“Are you going to answer that?” Jo called from the ensuite toilet.

Dean cleared his throat and answered the phone, bringing it to his ear.

“ _Dean?”_

“Hey Cas.”

There was a pause.

“ _Well, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”_

Dean scratched at his day old stubble, taking in a long, shaky breath.

“Everything’s peachy Cas.”

“ _You don’t sound very ‘peachy’.”_

Dean scoffed. Jo was standing in the bathroom doorway now, watching Dean with a sad expression. Dean avoided her gaze.

“It’s the anniversary of the crash, okay, but I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now,” Dean gave in. He heard Castiel sigh on the other end of the line.

“ _I’m sorry, Dean. I’d almost forgotten about that_.”

“Yeah, well, things had been going okay.”

_“Go see your family. I’ll be here if you need me.”_ Castiel spoke softly.

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean hesitated for a moment then hung up before Castiel could say anything else.

Jo walked over to Dean, waving his toiletry bag in her hand and dropped it into the duffel bag. Then, she linked arms with Dean as he picked up the bag and they made their way across campus to Jo’s car.

* * *

 

The journey was mostly silent apart from the low thrum of music coming from the rock station. Dean stared out the window, watching the changing scenery as they left Kansas City and found themselves rolling down a long stretch of open road. Dean could see Jo glancing at him every so often in his peripheral vision, but he elected to ignore it. Eventually, he asked the question he knew Jo had been waiting for.

“Has Sammy…?”

“No,” Jo answered, not waiting for Dean to finish his sentence.

Dean nodded and turned to look back out the window.

“Not that I know of, anyway,” Jo continued. “He’s been a lot better, Dean. You don’t have to worry-“

“Of course I’m going to worry, Jo, he’s my little brother.”

“I know.” Jo kept her eyes fixed on the road.

Dean parroted Jo, locking his gaze on the road ahead, his jaw clenched.

Half an hour went by before he couldn’t take the tension any longer. “I’m sorry, Jo.”

“I know,” Jo said softer this time.

“I know he’s a lot better. That’s it. Everything’s been going so well recently and I can’t stand to see him like that again. You’ve seen him during one.” Dean exhaled heavily and slumped back in his seat.

“Dean. Everything is okay,” Jo soothed, removing one hand from the steering wheel to squeeze Dean’s knee. Dean caught her hand in his before she could move it back. Jo side eyed Dean briefly before asking, “When was your last nightmare?”

“Honestly? It’s been a few weeks. Didn’t even have one last night,” Dean replied, his shoulders relaxing.

“Well that’s something to focus on, Dean,” Jo encouraged. Dean nodded and released Jo’s hand to turn up the volume on the radio where ‘Fade to Black’ by Metallica was playing. He focused on the guitar riffs, drowning out any thoughts for the rest of the journey. Jo left him be after that.

* * *

 

They arrived in Lawrence that evening and Dean entered his childhood home to find Sam sprawled out on the living room sofa, using his laptop. Jo headed straight for the kitchen to begin preparing dinner and Dean threw his duffel bag on the floor next to the sofa before dropping his body onto Sam’s legs, bouncing up and down. “Hey, Samsquatch.”

“Dean, I’m trying to do my homework,” Sam dejected, gesturing to his laptop.

Dean stopped bouncing and scrutinized Sam as he focused on the screen, fingers tapping away at the keyboard.  “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

Dean pursed his lips, unconvinced.  “Where’s mom?”

“Having a bath.”

He rolled his eyes, giving up, and stood from the sofa, dragging his feet to the kitchen to see what Jo was up to. She was emptying a tin of tomatoes into a large pot, humming ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’.

“REO Speedwagon?” Dean mocked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Damn right REO,” Jo replied, moving to grab a wooden spoon and stir the concoction in the pot.

Dean snorted and moved in beside Jo at the counter. He grabbed an onion and began chopping. “Sam’s being a bitch.”

“Of course he is,” Jo chided. “Give him a while; he always opens up in the end, the big softie.”

“I’m not looking for any chick flick moments with him; I just want him to stop pretending he’s okay when he’s not.” Dean slid the onions off the chopping board, into the pot.

“How do you know he isn’t okay?” Jo challenged.

Dean faltered and responded belatedly with, “’Cos he’s being a bitch.”

They served dinner a little while later, which turned out to be some sort of pasta and tomato-y sauce dish. Mary appeared in the kitchen with a warm smile on her face and Dean gave her a long hug before they sat down at the table. Jo stayed for dinner, which Dean was secretly thankful for because he wasn’t sure how well he could handle being alone with his family tonight. He scrutinized Sammy all through dinner until Sam couldn’t ignore it any longer and glared back, causing Dean to drop his fork. He focused on his meal after that.

When they finished eating, Sam pulled Dean into the hallway “to talk”.

Dean crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for his little brother’s speech. Sam didn’t hold back.

“I’m going to be honest with you. It’s shitty. Yeah, I feel pretty crap today. But I haven’t had a panic attack in months, not even today.  I feel like I’m finally moving on, and I wanna let that happen, so…” Sam vented, trailing off at the end.

Dean looked down at Sam, not sure how to respond. _Oh_.  “Uh… well I’m happy for you, Sammy.”

“I think you’re moving on too.” Sam shifted on his feet, not sure what response to expect from Dean.

“What?”

Sam inhaled deeply, and explained. “I think you’re finally letting go too, but you feel like you shouldn’t be, like you’re letting dad down or something so you’re getting worked up about it, trying to hold on when really you’re starting to feel like everything is going to be okay again.”

Dean stared at Sam, dumbfounded. “Jesus... _Freud_ ,” was all he could muster. Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged, muttering, “Whatever, that’s just what I think. I don’t have to be either of those people to see that.” Dean watched him walk back into the kitchen to help with the dishes, glued to his spot in the hallway. He let out a low whistle and scrubbed a hand down his face wearily. _Well then_.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, after Jo had headed home and Mary had turned in for the night, Dean sheepishly shuffled closer to Sam on the sofa. Sam looked up from his book and cocked his brows, waiting for Dean to say something.

“You’re right,” Dean husked, grudgingly.

The corners of Sam’s mouth twitched up, “About what?”

“You know about what,” Dean barked, turning his head to look anywhere but at Sam.

Sam threw his hands up theatrically and smirked at Dean. Dean stared at the palms of his hands where they rested on his lap. He cleared his throat.

“Truth is… things _have_ been good. And I was okay with that until today when I just suddenly felt like-”

“Like you’re forgetting about dad, I know. But you’re not. We’re not. We’re just starting to…” Sam waved his hands, trying to find the right words. Eventually, he settled on, “feel like normal kids again.”

Dean didn’t respond. He just leaned back in the sofa, stretching his legs on top of the coffee table and stared at the wall.

“How’s Cas?”

“Huh? Oh, he’s good.” Dean replied dreamily. His lips twitched at the thought of Castiel.

“So are you guys like… dating?” Sam queried, shifting his position on the sofa to face Dean.

Dean nodded, pursing his lips together in attempt to hide the smitten look on his face.

“You sure sounded like you were having fun the other day,” Sam teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

 Dean shoved Sam’s shoulder and Sam chuckled, proud of himself. “You just… shut up,” Dean scowled. “What about, uh… Jess. How’s she?”

“She’s good,” Sam mimicked Dean, a soft smile on his lips. Dean grinned at his little brother, ruffling the long mess of hair on his head. Sam swatted Dean’s hand away with his book. They were silent for a while, Dean pretending to be engrossed in the film on the TV and Sam pretending to read his book. Sam broke the silence saying, “Doesn’t it make you happy?”

 Dean turned to regard Sam’s face, “Doesn’t what make me happy?”

“That things are starting to feel like normal again. You’re at college, you have Cas,” Sam explained. “I have Jess,” he added shyly.

Dean stared at Sam for a beat, playing back the last few weeks he’d spent with Castiel, “Yeah. It does,” he responded, one side of his mouth twitching upwards. He remembered what Sam had called him about the other day and asked, “Did you kiss her?”

Sam just sat there with a stupid grin on his face and Dean’s face lit up. “That’s my boy!” He held up his palm for a high five and Sam swatted it away, rolling his eyes, but he was still smiling. Dean could tell he wasn’t going to get any more out of Sam than that so he left it there and stood to go find some beer in the kitchen.  While he was popping the lid off his bottle, he thought about their mom, who had been kept to herself most of the night. At one point, Dean had found her in the kitchen staring out the window, the soapy dishes in her hands forgotten. He'd gently removed them from her hands, placing them in the sink, and pulled her into a hug. He hadn't missed how her fingers had gripped the back of his shirt, leaving creases when she let go. She had gone to bed not long after that. 

Dean was in awe of his mother. After the accident, while she grieved for her husband and the boys grieved for their father, there wasn't one minute where she had stopped being Sam and Dean's mother. Although there were times where Ellen or Bobby had to take over for short while, she had refused to let the family fall apart. Dinner was always on the table, Sam was never late to his extra-curricular activities and the house was always clean. Dean thought keeping busy must have been her mechanism for coping, and even though she overworked herself sometimes, he preferred it over her turning to alcohol instead. He had seen his dad do that enough times after a domestic with Mary. 

 

 He returned to the living room, knocking Sam's head with his beer bottle as he walked past, just to be annoying. Sam just shot Dean his bitchiest bitch-face and returned to his book. Dean was chuckling to himself when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He yanked it out to see a text from Castiel.

**C: Are you okay?**

"Is that Cas?"

Dean looked up from his phone to see Sam smirking at him. "How'd'ya know?"

"You had the same facial expression you have when you see you're food arriving at a restaurant," Sam chuckled.

Dean threw a cushion at Sam who batted it away, and returned his attention to Castiel's message, tapping out a reply. 

**D: I'm good. Call me?**

A few minutes later, Dean's phone was ringing and he stood to go take the call out on the porch. 

"Hey," he smiled into the receiver. 

" _Hello, Dean_." 

Dean could hear the smile in Castiel's voice, causing his own smile to deepen. He felt like a teenager with his first crush.

" _You sound a lot better than earlier_ ," Castiel commented. 

"I am. Sam gave me this magical speech full of wise words, we drank green tea, braided each other's hair, and now i'm cured," Dean joked. "Sometimes I wonder if the boy's fucking psychic. You know he once had this fucked up dream about some guy dying in his garage and there was a story in the news just like it the next day? Friggin' weird man."

" _Dean_ ," Cas chuckled. 

Dean allowed himself to breathe in. "Sorry, I just...miss talking to you," he said, raising his hand to scratch at the back of his head. He realized he was pacing up and down the porch and went to sit down on one of the steps. 

" _I miss you too, Dean."_ There was a pause. " _When are you coming back to campus?_ "

 Dean rubbed his jaw, considering his options. He didn't intend to go back tomorrow initially, but it looked like his family were okay without him, only slightly to his dismay. (He liked to imagine Sam needed his big brother to protect him, but he was starting to believe Sam's protests that he is "not a chubby twelve year old" and that he can look after himself.)

"I could probably come home tomorrow, babe," Dean said, snapping his mouth shut after the last word. Had he ever called Cas _babe_ before? That was new.

" _Home_ ," Castiel repeated, pretending that was Dean's choice of words he noticed most.  

Dean huffed a laugh, scuffing his feet against the porch steps. "I guess that stupid campus is already starting to feel like home- maybe it's the delicious "home-cooking" of the cafeteria," he jested. He knew, though, what- or rather _who_ \- was making the place feel like home. 

 Dean heard Castiel chuckle on the other line, and then there was a pause. 

" _Dean..._ "

"Yeah, Cas?"

" _It's the 14th tomorrow_."

Dean racked his brain, trying to remember why that date was important. 

Castiel must have sensed Dean's confusion, when he explained, " _That's the date my father is in New York, so I can go see Anna._ "

_Oh._

_"_ Shit, yeah. Cas, i'm sorry, i totally forgot," Dean sighed, resting his head in his free hand. "I wanted to come with you. You know, moral support and all that."

" _It's okay Dean, I can do it myself._ "

"Do you have a ride?"

" _I can get a bus."_

_"_ Cas, don't be stupid, I have the impala here. I can come get you then we drive to Topeka. Piece of cake," Dean spoke with conviction.

He heard Castiel sigh, and he could just imagine him looking up to the side like he does when he doesn't like what you're saying to him. 

" _Dean, I-_ "

"Awesome. I'll pick you up at 10 and we can leave straight away," Dean spoke quickly, hanging up before Castiel could argue. 

He headed back inside and bounded up the stairs to his old bedroom, wishing Sam a good night on his way, and welcomed the warm embrace of his duvets. He had a feeling tomorrow would be a draining day, so he thought it best to get a decent amount of sleep. He slept without nightmares, maintaining his new record of three weeks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh, i don't know if i'm that happy with this chapter, but hopefully it was okay!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapters a bit longer than usual but it makes up for the long break between chapters recently. I should be updating more frequently with better quality chapters in a few weeks when exams are over and i'm free from school forever! :) Just a warning that i didn't do much editing of this chapter because i was in a rush to get it up so if there are mistakes or parts of the chapter that just sound wrong, let me know and i can fix it later :)

Castiel awoke on the morning of the 14th feeling sick to the stomach. He buried himself under his duvets and curled his body into the foetal position. He wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready.

 Anna’s condition had depleted drastically since he last saw her and Castiel wasn’t sure he could keep it together well enough when he saw her again. She did not need that reminder of her current state. And what if the plan didn’t work; what if it wasn’t Anna’s usual nurse and she grassed?

Castiel curled in on himself further, tightening his arms around his knees and groaned. Eventually, after a few minutes of muttering “encouragements” to himself along the lines of “get the fuck out of bed, you selfish bastard,” and “you’re not the one suffering, so grow a pair,” he rolled himself out of the refuge of his bed. He stared at Dean’s empty bed, then at his shitty, plastic alarm clock. 9am. He should probably get a move on. After grabbing his toiletry bag and an outfit for the day, he dragged his feet into the hallway, towards the communal showers.

It wasn’t until he was standing naked under the shower head that he realised he’d forgotten a towel. He glared at the wall in front of him. Today was already annoying him. On his quest for a towel, he knocked shoulders with Ash in the hallway.

“Woah, Cas!” Ash exclaimed, whipping his body round to face Castiel. “You okay there?”

“Ash. Sorry, I’m uh…” Castiel gestured vaguely down the hall, failing to actually offer any explanation for his behaviour.

Ash furrowed his brows, watching Castiel dubiously. Then his expression changed to something of amusement.

Castiel narrowed his eyes and asked, “What?” his head tilted slightly.

“I’m starting to see how you got Dean-o, the straight dude, into your pants,” Ash said, waving a finger at Castiel’s torso.

Castiel looked down, bewildered. _Oh. Yeah._ He hadn’t made the effort to get dressed properly for his towel quest and was standing in the hallway in just a pair of white boxers. He promptly folded his arms against his chest, suddenly feeling very exposed.

“I’m kind of in a rush, Ash, sorry,” he said quickly, beginning to walk backwards. “I’ll catch up with you later though.” He turned around clumsily and hurried back to his dorm, leaving Ash shrugging to himself and sauntering off in the other direction.

When he’d finally gotten himself showered and dressed, he found the time to check his phone to find several messages from Dean.

_56 minutes ago_

**D: That’s me up x**

_40 minutes ago_

**D: Its gonna b fine, Cas. U better b out of bed**

_15 minutes ago_

**D: I’m in baby now, on my way**

 

Castiel smiled weakly at his phone and tapped out a reply.

**C: Don’t worry, I’m ready. I’m not backing out. X**

He got up from where he sat on the edge of his bed and wandered over to Dean’s, curling up on top of the duvets and sliding an arm under the pillow. Castiel found it soothing breathing in Dean’s scent and he fell asleep there until Dean shook him awake gently, just after 10am.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispered, resting his hand on Castiel’s shoulder when he saw his eyes flutter open.

“Dean?” Castiel murmured, lifting his head from Dean’s pillow.

“In the flesh. C’mon we should get on the road,” Dean said, smiling softly.

“Okay.”

Castiel got up and slipped his tattered converse on, grabbing his trench coat on their way out the door. Dean laced their fingers together and led them to his most prized possession, where it sat in the campus car park.

When they reached the Impala, Dean placed a hand on its roof and said, “Cas, meet Baby. Baby, meet Cas.” Castiel chuckled and he could have sworn the smile Dean gave him made his freckles shimmer which resulted in his heart missing a beat. He composed himself quickly and slid into the passenger seat, Dean moving into the driver’s seat.

“Did her up myself after the crash as a sort of distraction. Bobby showed me the works and gave me a job at his auto shop after,” Dean explained, while putting the car into gear.

“This is the car you were in?” Castiel asked, his eyes widening.

“Yep.”

“I would never have guessed,” Castiel commented, impressed.

Dean smiled shyly to himself, pretending to check his blind spot to hide it. They backed out of the parking lot, towards the campus exit.

“I think I’d like to meet Bobby one day,” Castiel said, smiling, when they had reached the open road. “He sounds like a good man.”

Dean smiled. “He is.”

He left Castiel to his thoughts for a while, focusing himself on the rhythm of the Led Zeppelin cassette tape he’d put on. Soon, however, his own thoughts trailed to Castiel’s family.

“Hey, Cas…” he croaked, clearing his throat.

Castiel turned to regard him attentively. “Yes, Dean?”

“If religion is what got your family into this mess… why are you studying it, really?” Dean side-eyed Castiel nervously as he awaited an answer.

Castiel seemed unfazed, however. “It intrigues me. I want to understand what drives some people to put their faith in these religions so unconditionally that…”

“That they’ll abandon their family for some holy son of a bitch who hasn’t bothered to show his face in the- what – 3000 years the bible’s existed?” Dean offered, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

Castiel kept his gaze on Dean, remaining calm. “Dean,” he sighed. “Christianity offers comfort to those who feel their lives must have some purpose or meaning.”

“You know, there are people who don’t take the bible literally, right?  They still get their “comfort” without being dicks.”

“Of course I know that, I’m the one taking theology.”

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry Cas,” Dean relented. “I guess I just can’t get behind this idea of God.”

Castiel’s eyes softened as he watched Dean’s profile, and Dean held his hand out which Cas accepted, lacing their fingers together. He brought Castiel’s hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss there. The gesture caused Castiel’s heart to flutter in his chest and it didn’t help when he rested their hands, still laced together, on his lap as he steered one-handed, rubbing his thumb along Castiel’s.

“You know, it’s people like you I have to blame for my current situation,” Castiel said, his voice almost a whisper.

“How’s that?” Dean asked, releasing Cas’ hand for a moment to change gear and turn a corner.

Castiel immediately missed the touch, waiting eagerly to see if Dean would take his hand back once they were driving straight again. When he did, he relaxed and spoke, “If there weren’t boys as gorgeous as you in this world, none of this would have happened.”

Dean stole a glance at Castiel, who shrugged nonchalantly, and laughed. “Hey, I can’t help my amazing good looks.” He paused. “Anyway, you can’t talk; I’m the one who was supposed to be straight until you waltzed into my life with your stupid eyes and… jawline.”

Castiel laughed and shook his head, tightening his hand around Dean’s. “I’m a little proud of that, actually,” he admitted.

“You damn should be,” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ hand back.

The rest of the journey flew by and Castiel had managed to relax completely until they were passing the sign welcoming them to Topeka. Dean must have sensed him tensing up because he released his hand from Castiel’s and moved it to the nape of his neck, carding his fingers through his already unruly hair. Castiel closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

“Hey, you’re gonna do this and you’ll be so glad you did. So will Anna,” Dean said, smoothing a thumb down the back of his neck.

Castiel focused his attention for the rest of the journey on directing Dean to his home, ultimately leading him down a high-class suburban street.

“Dude, these houses are friggin’ huge,” Dean said as he pulled into Castiel’s driveway. Castiel didn’t reply. He could feel his heart rate quickening again as he searched for any signs of his father being home, just in case. The only other car in the driveway was a ford which he recognised as one of Anna’s nurse’s, Pamela. He can trust her. He drew a deep breath and released it, finding Dean’s hand as soon as they were both out the car.

Shit. Does he knock? No. This is still his home, as long as Anna is there. He walked in, Dean in tow, and called for Pamela.

She appears moments later, her hips swaying as she walked towards them.

“Castiel,” she grins, pulling him into a hug when she’s close enough. “Anna told me I’d be seeing you soon.”

“It’s good to see you, Pamela,” Castiel said, smiling into her dark hair.

She spotted Dean over his shoulder and quirked an eyebrow, humming suggestively. “And who’s this?”

“This is Dean Winchester, my, uh, boyfriend,” Castiel introduced as he pulled away from Pamela, smiling goofily at the last word.

Dean shot her his winning smile and Pamela looked him up and down, an impressed smile playing on her lips.

“Is Anna in her room?” Castiel asked, jumping in before Pamela could steal said boyfriend.

“She is. You go on through; I’m gonna start lunch,” She turned and disappeared into the kitchen, Dean’s eyes following her ass as she went. Castiel rolled his eyes and dragged him up the stairs to find Anna.

He tapped lightly on her bedroom door with his knuckles before walking in to find her curled up on her bed, reading a book. She was attached to a drip, and what was left of her long, auburn hair was now gone. She lifted her head and beamed at the sight of her older brother who hovered nervously in her doorway.

In response her smile, Castiel immediately strode towards the bed, leaving it to be Dean’s turn to hover awkwardly at the door. Anna abandoned her book and outstretched her arms, inviting him into a hug which he happily accepted. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, showing no indication of letting go any time soon. When they eventually did pull away, Castiel moved to sit cross-legged on the end of her bed and said, “Hello, Anna,” all with a stupid smile plastered across his face.

“Hello, Castiel,” Anna replied in an imitation of his gravelly voice.

 He rolled his eyes, stifling a smile, and she laughed. Her eyes flickered to the doorway where she noticed Dean leaning against the wall with his arms folded, pretending to have a profound interest in the floor. Castiel followed her gaze and quickly remembered he had introductions to make.

“Dean,” he said, twisting his position to be facing him, and when he looked up, his lips were pursed and the dimples were there and Castiel suddenly found it very hard to breathe for a second. “Uh...” he faltered, “come meet Anna.” _For God’s sake, Castiel, you’ve been living with him for months now, get yourself together._

Dean straightened himself up and walked towards the two siblings, nodding and smiling at Anna- “It’s good to meet you, Anna. Cas’ drawings do not do you justice”- and shuffled in next to Castiel on the bed, slinking an arm behind his back. Castiel could have sworn his sister was swooning. Dean turned to him, “not that you’re drawings aren’t awesome, babe.”

Anna looked astounded, her hazel eyes opened wide, lips parted. “You got _him_ to go out with _you_?” she said, gesturing to Dean, “ _him_?”

“It’s nice to know my sister has such a high opinion of me,” Castiel said, feigning annoyance. Inside, however, he was wondering the same thing. He really was proud of himself.

“I’m just jealous, really,” she smiled.

“Uh… still here,” Dean chimed in, looking more than a little pleased with himself.

“I apologise for my sister,” said Castiel. He turned back to face said sister, “so, what have you been doing? Have you been seeing friends?”

Anna rolled her eyes, “you sound like Pamela.”

Castiel frowned. “I’m just taking an interest in your life.”

“I know, sorry. Yes, Hester was here after you called yesterday and we baked a chocolate cake- well she did, and I mostly watched then helped eat it afterwards.”

“That’s good,” Castiel said, smiling softly. He hesitated a moment, pressing in closer to Dean, who remained silent, allowing Castiel time with Anna. “And how’s our father?”

“He’s good, he’s… busy. A lot. But he spends time with me, if that’s what you were wondering,” Anna reassured, trying to erase the worried expression on her brother’s face. He looked unconvinced. “He asks about you,” she continued.

Castiel’s face changed- he stared at Anna with narrowed eyes, his head tilted. The classic Castiel look. “What?”

“Yeah, we were sitting watching something the other day and he mentioned that he knows we’re in contact and then he asked how you were doing.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him you were doing great, you know, despite the heart-crushing knowledge that his own father had rejected him and his dearly beloved sister was dying miles away. He went off in a huff to make some coffee after that.”

Castiel stared, dumbfounded, and Dean failed to stifle a chuckle- “I like you,” he said to Anna. She smiled, ducking her head and fidgeting with the pages of her book. Dean nodded at it, “whatcha reading?”

“Oh, just some book about two people with cancer. Dad bought it for me- it’ not very uplifting.”

Dean nodded, laughing softly. Meanwhile, Castiel was scrutinising Anna- she had grown a lot paler since they walked in and her round eyes were sunken, cheekbones prominent. “Anna, maybe you should get some sleep for a while,” he said, sadly. Her face fell immediately, and Castiel spoke again quickly, “we’ll still be here when you wake up; I’m not leaving you again yet.”

“Okay,” Anna nodded, reluctantly, and began sliding under her duvets while Castiel and Dean stood. “See you later, then.”

They left the room, Castiel switching her light off as they went, and Dean followed him into his old bedroom. The room was pretty basic, with just a few books and CDs lying around, with the exception of his walls which were plastered with sketches and torn out pages from books and magazines. Dean perused the walls, keen to learn more about this trench-coat-wearing boy he never expected to fall for. There were verses of poetry, and pictures of street photography pinned up clumsily by map tacks. Dean recognised one photo of a man on a bicycle, framed by spiralling steps, as one of Henri Cartier-Bresson’s. Castiel sat on his bed, watching Dean. He didn’t realise he was in a daze until Dean’s deep voice pulled him out of it, saying, “I didn’t know you were into photography too, Cas.” He sounded impressed.

“It’s more the street part I’m interested in. The people, going about in their everyday lives,” Castiel explained. He held his arm out to Dean, pulling him onto his bed when he took his hand. Dean collapsed onto him, laughing into his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Dean shifted his position to lie beside Castiel, facing him, pushing a knee between his legs. They simply stared at each other for a while before Dean’s lips were on Castiel’s, pressing softly, progressing slowly into an open-mouthed kiss and nothing more. He found Castiel’s hand and laced their fingers together between their chests. Castiel breathed a small laugh, his eyes still closed.

“What is it?” Dean murmured.

“For a lover of classic rock and leather jackets, you can be such a softie.”

Dean began to pull away, embarrassed, but his efforts were failed when Castiel tightened his legs around his and wriggled in closer, so their bodies were pressed flush again one another. They were kissing again, and then Castiel was nuzzling Dean’s neck, whispering, “this feels weird.” – “what does?” – “kissing a guy under my father’s roof.”

Dean hummed. “What about this?” he asked, moving a hand to Castiel’s crotch, causing his breath to hitch.

“You had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?” Castiel chuckled, burying his face further into Dean’s neck, becoming sleepy in the warmth. He did end up falling asleep soon after, curled up in Dean’s arms, and eventually he dozed off too. An hour went by before they were awoken by a knock on the bedroom door. It was Pamela telling them there was soup in the kitchen if they wanted any, and that Anna was awake again.

They ambled downstairs, groggy from their nap, and found Anna at the kitchen table dipping bread into a bowl of soup. She laughed at their dishevelled appearances, Castiel’s usually wild hair even more accentuated, and Dean’s standing up in short spikes, reminding her of a hedgehog. “I guess I’m not the only one who got some sleep… unless that’s not how you acquired those hairstyles,” she said, grimacing at the end.

Castiel rolled his eyes and sat next to her at the table, Dean dropping into the chair on his other side. Pamela appeared with two more bowls of soup, placing them in front of the boys. The three of them ate together while she prepared Anna’s medication for her.

“Does it feel strange being home for the first time in months?” Anna asked after watching her brother for a while. When he lifted his head to regard her, he realised she looked sad- reminiscent.  

“Yeah...” he replied softly, looking around the room. “Anna, I’m-”

“If you apologise again for something that isn’t your fault I will slap you,” Anna interrupted, playfully. Dean chuckled while Castiel just nodded, her message understood. Anna then decided it was time she learnt everything about Dean and delivered the classic, “tell me about yourself.” Dean found himself regurgitating most of what he told Cas during their first proper conversation, the day they met. He told her about his college classes, his old job at the auto shop and Sammy. His three go-to mentions when told to speak about his self. When quizzed about his favourite song he replied with, “It’s a tie. Between Zep’s ‘Ramble On’ and ‘Travelling Riverside Blues’”.

Anna seemed satisfied with this and concluded that Dean was allowed to continue dating her brother. Dean felt a strange sense of pride with this and all Castiel wanted to do was kiss that smug grin off his face.

The day ended too quickly for Castiel and Anna but he promised he’d be back as soon as he could and hugged her goodbye before she returned to her bed. Dean had grown fond of Anna in the few hours he’d known her so far and it made him sad to see how weak she was. He couldn’t imagine how it made Castiel feel. He said his goodbyes, giving her a quick hug too and then they were on the open road again.

Castiel was quiet most of the journey and Dean didn’t bug him for conversation. He slid a random cassette into the player, which turned out to be Motorhead and tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel, occasionally stealing side glances at Cas in the passenger seat. He noticed his left hand lying open on his lap and placed his own hand in it. Castiel snapped out of his daze and closed his hand around Dean’s, a small smile playing on his lips.

They stopped at some fast food restaurant for dinner before they arrived back at campus and Dean pulled over at the side of an empty road to eat. The stars were out, peppering the sky like spilt glitter. Dean was standing outside the car, by the door, pulling on his leather jacket.

“What are you doing?” Castiel wondered aloud.

“Have you seen the sky?” is all Dean responded with. He moved round the front of the car and opened the passenger door, towing Castiel out by the hand. Then he grabbed their food from inside the car and they were perched on the hood of the car, dipping fries in ketchup, pressing into each other. When Dean was finished, he scrunched up his paper wrapping and lay back against the windscreen, admiring the stars.  Castiel joined him, putting his remaining food aside, and resting his head in the crook between Dean’s arm and shoulder.

“You okay?” Dean murmured, squeezing an arm around Cas, his eyes still on the sky.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I’m happy that I got to see my sister, but she’s worse. She was so frail,” Castiel replied, playing with the lapel of Dean’s jacket.

“I know, it sucks. Man, I can’t imagine what it would feel like if Sammy…” Dean trailed off. He was staring at Orion’s belt.

“You really care about Sam, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I’d die for him,” Dean admitted. He looked down to see Castiel peering up at him through his lashes, and his heart stopped for a second. “I think I’d die for you too,” he added in a whisper.

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at his freckled, green-eyed boy, searching, before bending his head upwards to press their lips together. It was a sweet kiss at first, but soon he was straddling Dean’s hips, and Dean’s hands were on his thighs, fingers digging in. He kissed him fervently, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Do you say that to all the boys you fancy?” he breathed, lips inches from Dean’s.

“Only the blue-eyed ones with sex hair and a complete ignorance to pop culture,” Dean muttered between kisses.

“Hey, I’m pretty pop culture savvy now,” Castiel countered, pulling away from Dean’s lips.

“Yeah, thanks to me and the guys,” Dean teased, attempting to steal another kiss, but instead brushing the side of Castiel’s face, as he ducked his head to suck on Dean’s neck. He knocked his head back against the windscreen, his hands travelling up past Castiel’s butt, to his waist. After one more kiss to the lips, Castiel shuffled down to lay his head on Dean’s chest, wrapped in his arms. He listened to his heart beat as it gradually slowed back to a steady pace.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“I’d die for you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know i didn't characterize Anna much like she is in the show but hopefully we can just work with it. I hope this chapter was okay. If anyone has any help they can give me on Anna's storyline, that would be really helpful. If i'm not handling the issue of having a family member with leukemia sensitively enough or getting things wrong, please let me know. I don't want to offend anyone.


	10. Chapter 10

Today, Dean’s choice of morning alarm was ‘Back in Black’ by AC/DC, the guitar riffs resonating through Castiel’s skull as he buried his head under his pillow. Dean imitated the guitar sounds, nodding his head to the beat and playing air guitar as he stomped closer to Castiel’s bed where he lay, growling into his mattress. He crouched next to Cas, peeling the pillow away from his face and smiled. Castiel glared back, only causing Dean’s smile to deepen.

“Why do you do this?” he grumbled.

“You came to college to be educated, right? This is Rock’n’roll 101- this is you being educated.”

“I’m pretty sure I signed up for Hebrew and theology,” Cas deadpanned.

“You know, I can see your foot tapping under the covers,” Dean smirked, obviously very pleased with himself. Castiel blushed and Dean continued, “Anyway I’m heading to class, meet me for burgers later?”

“Meg’s coming over before we have class this afternoon,” Castiel said, tilting his head for a better view of his boyfriend. He just missed the pout that flashed on Dean’s lips.

“I guess I’ll see you when I see you then,” Dean said, leaning in to drop a kiss just under Castiel’s eye, then on his lips. Castiel watched him as he strolled out their room, shaking his head fondly at the music still blaring from Dean’s speakers.

He was in the middle of an assignment for his Hebrew class when Meg let herself in, waltzing over to where he sat in the middle of his bed. She plopped down beside him, leaning against his headboard, and smiled- “hey, Clarence. Feels like ages since we spoke.”

Castiel abandoned his homework to regard her. “I still don’t know why you call me that,” he replied, noticing she’d changed her hair. It had been bleached blonde with a couple faded pink streaks. He wiggled a finger at her head, “I like the hair.”

“Thanks. Felt like a change,” Meg shrugged. She observed him for a moment until he was staring back, eyebrows furrowed. She smiled. “Something’s different.”

“About me? _I_ haven’t changed my hair…”

“No, moron. Your aura,” Meg said slowly, quirking an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Castiel nodded slowly, eyes dragging around the room and back to Meg, who’d made herself comfortable against his pillows, patiently awaiting his answer.

“I guess you could be referring to my recent visit to my sister.”

“Your sister? Anna?”

Castiel nodded again and explained his sister’s condition and his father’s denial, leading him to where he is now. When he’d finished, he looked up from his hands to see Meg’s reaction. She simply slumped further against the pillows, emitting a small sigh. “Shit…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you stuff like this sooner, I just didn’t…” Castiel tried, wavering off at the end.

 “No, I get it. It’s a lot of baggage…no wonder you’re so hunched over all the time,” Meg said, attempting at a joke.

Castiel huffed a short laugh, thankful for her efforts to keep the mood light. “I am not hunched over,” he protested.

“You do slouch a little,” she teased.

Castiel rolled his eyes, training his gaze on the ceiling. He exhaled slowly.

“Dean seems supportive,” Meg commented after a few moments of silence, dragging Cas from his thoughts.

“He’s been amazing,” he agreed, failing to fight the smile forming on his face.

After they had arrived back from Topeka, he had received a text from Anna informing him that she’d fallen a little bit in love with his boyfriend and he didn’t even blame her.

They decided to start strolling through campus towards class, Meg mocking Castiel’s choice of outerwear as he pulled his arms through the sleeves of his tattered trench coat. “You look like a tax accountant,” she commented.

“I like it,” Castiel huffed, walking ahead of her, but she caught up.

“Hey, my legs are half the length of yours, I can’t keep up.”

“That was the point,” Castiel deadpanned.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Ok, grumpy.”

He had relented by the time they’d left the halls, however, letting Meg walk and talk beside him again. During a discussion of class notes, the topic of conversation somehow veered towards the apocalypse.

“You ever think the apocalypse would be kinda cool?” Meg asked, pensively.

Castiel glanced at her, knitting his eyebrows together. “No… why would I want the end of times?”

Meg shrugged and that was that.

* * *

 

 

Later that evening, Dean was lounging on his bed, headphones on and feet kicked back. He laid with his eyes shut, fingers drumming against his stomach to the beat of Billy Squier’s ‘Lonely Is the Night’.

 Castiel lay on his stomach on the opposite side of the room, a chewed up pencil between his fingers, etching away in his sketch book. Tonight, his subject matter was Dean, although he didn’t know it. Castiel doesn’t usually tell his subjects when he’s drawing them for fear that it would ruin the candid nature of the image. He was unaware that halfway through shading in his hair, Dean had opened his eyes and begun watching him. Dean noted the way his brows furrowed in concentration and how he kept running his free hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in dark waves. His elbows had gone red from propping himself up for the last hour.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean called, pulling his headphones away from his ears to hang them around his neck. He waited for Castiel to return from his creative trance, then said, “Draw me like one of your French girls,” with a wink.

Castiel blinked.

“Titanic? C’mon man…” Dean stuttered.

“Oh. Sorry, Dean,” Castiel said, blushing.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Who’re you drawing?” he asked, nodding at the sketchbook under Castiel’s hands.

“Oh, my boyfriend,” Cas spoke nonchalantly, tracing his fingers over the thick paper.

“Your boyfriend, huh? What’s he like?” Dean played along.

“You wouldn’t like him- he has a terrible taste in music, steals your food…” Castiel peered at Dean, who had begun walking towards him, headphones abandoned.

“Is that right?” he said, lowering to his knees beside Castiel on the floor.

Castiel rolled onto his side, his t-shirt sliding up to expose a tanned hipbone. This didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, who covered it with calloused fingers, and shuffled onto his side to be facing him, green eyes on blue. Cas responded with a lingering kiss, catching Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away. Dean remained still, drunk on those azure eyes. He slid his hand from Cas’ hip, reaching for his face but Castiel caught it in his, holding their hands between their chests.

He was playing with Castiel’s fingers, exploring lazily, when he asked, “Cas, what do you wanna do?”

Castiel’s right hand was smudged with lead which accentuated the eddying lines in his skin. He studied the patterns, where lines broke off or overlapped others.

“When?” Castiel murmured drowsily.

“In your life,” Dean explained, half-shrugging.

Castiel tilted his head to lock eyes with Dean, who stared back intently, lips parted. “You’ll laugh or just mock me for being clichéd. Which in itself is a cliché that I'd say that...” He babbled.

“Why, what is it?”

“I just want to be among people, working with them, studying them… helping them. I don’t know.”

Dean smiled.

“What?”

“’times you just talk like you’re a whole different species. It’s cute.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, scrunching his nose.

“How come you didn’t choose to study psychology or sociology or something? You seem more interested in that shit to me than theology,” Dean continued.

Castiel shrugged, pressing his palm further into Dean’s and interlocking fingers. “I believe this is where I insert a speech about my actions being influenced by ‘daddy issues,’” he said.

Dean laughed under his breath, emitting a curious look from Cas. He noticed Castiel’s expression and said, “Sorry, just that I can relate.”

“Why is that?” Castiel searched.

“I came this close-” Dean held his forefinger and thumb an inch apart to demonstrate- “to signing up for the Marines just because my dad did and I thought that’d be what he wanted. Quit school and everything.” He stroked a thumb along the side of Castiel’s hand. “Then Bobby gave me the job at the auto, convincing me I had a knack after fixing up Baby and I dunno, I guess he didn’t want me going. It was dumb impulse, I wasn’t thinking of Sammy or mom.” He breathed in sharply, looking back into Castiel’s eyes.

“I’m glad Bobby stopped you,” Castiel said softly.

“Yeah, me too. I owe that man a lot,” Dean said, squeezing Castiel’s hand. “Anyways. How about this sketch of yours, huh?”

Castiel sat up, Dean following him, and picked up his sketch book from where he’d abandoned it on the floor. He offered it to Dean, who took it gently from his hands turning it the right way up. He traced a light thumb over the picture, past the contours of his cheekbone. “The nose is way off, man,” he teased.

“Shut up,” Castiel smiled crookedly, snatching the sketchbook back.

“Hey, I wasn’t done looking!” Dean protested, reaching to reclaim the book, but Castiel was holding it above his head, his playful grin causing his nose to crinkle. Dean lost his balance, knocking foreheads with him. He used this to his advantage, eyes flitting briefly to Castiel’s lips and pulling him in for a soft but urgent kiss. Just as Castiel brought his arm down to rest over Dean’s shoulder, intensifying the kiss with the introduction of his tongue, Dean managed to slyly grasp the book from behind him, where it dropped to the floor. He pulled away from Castiel’s kiss, bringing the book between them, a victorious grin playing on his lips.

Castiel’s lust-blown eyes flashed from wide with shock to narrowed, his expression settling into a chilling glare. Dean would have felt scared if he couldn’t see the amusement hidden behind the glower. Or if Castiel hadn’t wiped that smug grin off his face with a bruising kiss, tossing the book aside.

Neither of them actually cared about the book. It was just an excuse to play tongue tennis. Castiel’s fingers pressed into the back of Dean’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. He was in Dean’s lap, breathing in the cologne behind his ear, when they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

“Remind me what day it is, Cas?” Dean breathed.

“I believe it is Friday, the 21st,” Castiel replied, his breath tickling the skin on Dean’s neck.

“Ah, Friday.”

Another knock on the door.

Castiel rolled off Dean’s lap begrudgingly, flopping onto his back on the floor with a sigh. Dean picked himself up from the floor, dragging his feet to the door. Sure enough, it was one of the gang, as he expected- Ash.

“Muchaho!” Ash exclaimed, lifting up the six pack of Blue Ribbon in his hand.

“Hey, man,” Dean chuckled, stepping aside to let him in.

Ash and Castiel greeted each other as Ash walked in and slid into Cas’ desk chair, making himself comfortable.

“Did we make plans or something that I forgot about?” Dean asked, meandering over to where Castiel still lounged on the floor.

“Nah, just thought we should have plans so came over here,” Ash responded coolly, helping himself to a can.

“Where’re the others? Charlie?” Castiel offered.

Ash shrugged. “Beats me, I got nothing from ‘em all day.” He cracked open his can and took a swig.

Dean and Castiel exchanged amused glances. Dean folded his arms, allowing his stance to slouch slightly. “So what, you wanna just have a three amigos night?”

“Great idea!” Ash enthused.  He grabbed a couple more cans from his pack and tossed one each to the boys, Dean only just catching his and Cas missing his entirely, watching it roll under the bed behind him instead.

“What, no El Sol, man?” Dean dejected, cracking his can open, while Castiel retrieves his from the floor.

“Sorry, buddy.” Ash shrugged, followed by a belch.

The three of them sat for a while, drinking and talking, with Dean’s Rolling Stones CD playing in the background. It wasn’t until a couple beers later that Dean really comprehended how long it had been since he’d heard from Charlie. While Ash was telling a story of how he hacked into a professor’s computer to mess around with their lecture PowerPoint and happened upon their “freaky porn stash”, Dean pulled out his phone and checked his recent messages from her. The last one was a couple days ago and she hadn’t replied to his last couple messages regarding the last Game of Thrones episode he’d watched.

“Hey, uh, did Charlie mention anything to either of you recently, like, I don’t know, about a con or something?” Dean asked, as soon as Ash had finished speaking.

“A con? Like comic con?” Castiel responded, eyes darting from Ash to be fixated on Dean.

“Yeah, or just anything she might be away for that’s Charlie-like.”

Ash considered this for a moment before shaking his head, joined by Cas.

“Huh,” Dean grunted, putting his phone away.

“Is something wrong, Dean?” Castiel asked, sounding concerned.

“Nah. ‘S just not like her to pass up the chance at a bitching session over Joffrey,” Dean spoke into his can before taking a swig.

“She’s probably just swamped with class work at the moment,” Castiel reassured.

Ash offered to “get his MIT on” and track her location but Dean kindly turned him down, allowing them to return to their previous discussions and Charlie’s whereabouts were mostly forgotten for the rest of the evening, putting it down to college work.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the huge break between chapters again! *insert excuse about exams*.  
> I feel like my writing quality has been lacking recently, as well as my general creativity cos my brains too full of biology revision, so if you have any ideas of anything you'd like to see in this story, let me know in the comments :)  
> Thank you by the way for all the supportive comments, i really appreciate it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of different I guess. i hope its okay :)

Dean was accepting his and Cas’ take-out coffee’s from the barista at _Campus Coffee_ when he caught a glimpse of red hair in his peripheral vision. He hurriedly placed one cup down to grab ten dollars from his back pocket, handing it over to the barista.

“Keep the change,” he said with a wink, reclaiming the coffee cup from the counter and striding towards the owner of the red hair – Charlie – who sat hunched over her laptop, eyes skimming back and forth across the screen. Dean cleared his throat, revealing his dimples through pursed lips and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Charlie looked up from her laptop screen, beaming sheepishly at her friend.

 “Oh, hey, Dean!”

“Charlie,” Dean nodded, sliding into the chair opposite her. He scrutinised her, leaning back in his chair. Charlie tried to stare back but her eyes soon fell back to her laptop screen.

“Where’ve you been lately?” Dean asked, taking a sip from his polystyrene cup and instantly regretting it when the scolding coffee burnt his tongue.

“Oh, yeah! I’ve been away checking out this comic convention in Topeka,” Charlie said, excitedly, then paused, her eyes darting from the table to fix on Dean’s face before saying, “did I forget to mention that?”

“It might have slipped your mind, yeah,” Dean said, his smile not quite matching the concerned look in his eyes.

“My bad,” Charlie said with a nervous laugh, turning her attention to her caramel latte. There was a momentary silence while she took a sip, before Dean asked, “was it good?”

“Huh?” Charlie said vacantly, wiping froth from her upper lip.

“The convention?” Dean raised a brow.

“Oh! Yeah, it was awesome,” Charlie nodded.

Dean ducked his head slightly, worry lines forming on his forehead. “You’re okay, aren’t you, Charlie?”

Charlie blinked then laughed. “Dude, I’m fine!”

Dean nodded, rising from his chair. “’Course you are. I need to get Cas’ caffeine fix to him before it gets cold, so I guess I’ll see you around, okay?” he said, picking up the take-out cups. Charlie said “arrivederci” in the most convincingly cheery way she could manage, slumping back into her chair with a sigh when Dean was out the door.

 

* * *

 

Dean swung the door to his dorm open clumsily, balancing one of the coffee cups under his arm and kicked the door shut behind him with his booted heel, rousing Castiel from his slumber.

He placed Castiel’s coffee on his bedside table then used his newly freed hand to card his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. Castiel feigned sleep for a couple minutes longer, for fear that Dean would move his hand if he opened his eyes.

When he eventually decided to “wake up”, Dean had moved into his bed with him and was finishing off his own coffee.

“Hello, Dean,” he croaked, rolling over to press his face into Dean’s side, breathing in the scent of his t-shirt.

“Hey, babe,” Dean smiled, placing a hand back in Castiel’s hair and playing gently with the mussed locks. “Coffee to your left,” he said.

Once Cas had took the first sip of his coffee and had rewarded Dean with a morning kiss, Dean told him he had bumped into Charlie.

“Really? Is she okay?” Castiel asked, waking up slightly.

“Something was definitely fishy,” Dean muttered. He crumpled his polystyrene cup and threw it vaguely in the direction of their trash can, watching it slide across the floor about a metre off.

“Do you think she’s keeping something from us?” Castiel speculated.

“Hell if I know, but if she is I’m gonna find out what.”

Dean’s eyes were fixed on the crumpled cup where it lay on the floor.

“Don’t push her, Dean. She might have something personal going on that she doesn’t feel like sharing with others; you must know what that feels like.”

Dean glanced at Castiel briefly, then back at the cup.

“Yeah, sorry, I gotta get that,” he grumbled, nodding towards it and rolling out of bed to toss it into the bin.

Castiel watched him, waiting for him to return to bed before he spoke.

“I didn’t mean anything by that, I just mean-” he started, once Dean had planted himself back by his side.

“Don’t sweat it, Cas, I know what you meant,” Dean said, giving him a soft smile and wrapping him up in his arms.

Castiel wriggled in as close to Dean’s body as he could, but the fabric of his t-shirt against his bare torso was too frustrating, and he began tugging at Dean’s shirt until he got the message and lifted his arms so that Cas could pull it off.

“That’s better,” he said, smiling at the warmth of Dean’s skin flush against his. Dean’s hands felt strong against his back where his thumb stroked windshield wiper motions.

Dean hummed his agreement, his thoughts still on Charlie. He knew Castiel had a good point, but he’d always pegged Charlie as a sharing and caring kind of person. She was a lot healthier than Dean when it came to expressing herself, or so he thought. The thought of there being something bothering Charlie that she felt she needed to keep from Dean bugged him. Then again, he was well aware that she was more than capable of fighting her own battles and if that’s what she needed to do right now, he needed to respect that.

And so he did. Mostly. Except for when he sort of found himself searching for conventions in the Topeka area, when he should have been doing research for a paper. Nothing came up. Nothing recent, anyway. He sighed and slouched back in his chair.

Castiel had noticed what Dean was doing from where he sat on his bed behind him. He had decided to leave Dean to it if it would put his mind at rest. Evidently, it hadn’t.

“Don’t take it personal, Dean,” he said.

“I’m not taking it personally,” Dean responded shortly, still facing his laptop screen.

He was distracted after that by hands and lips and the sensation of Castiel’s hot breath on his neck until they decided it was time for food.

* * *

 

Dean still had the Impala on campus so they decided to a make a trip of it and find a burger joint in the city. They settled on a place with a sort of hipster vibe, where they served their burgers on a wooden slab and there were plants hanging from the ceiling. All only slightly to Dean’s distaste. He couldn’t complain about the burgers though. Those were fucking great.

“I don’t see why they can’t just put the burgers on a plate,” he commented as he reached for the ketchup across the table.

“I kind of like it,” Castiel smiled.

Just like the day they met, Castiel wolfed down his burger like his life depended on it and Dean watched fondly, hiding his smile behind a mouthful of fries.

They spoke about normal stuff, Dean managing to put aside his concern for Charlie for a while with the topic of conversation flowing from what events they would travel back in time to if they could to funny childhood stories, which eventually led onto Castiel giving Dean an update on Anna’s condition.

“I think it’s starting to feel much more real for her recently,” Castiel said in a low voice, fidgeting with his unused fork. “She’s started to cry more frequently during our phone calls,” he continued.

Dean didn’t know what to say. His heart hurt for Castiel as he reached across the table to take his hand in his, simply holding it there in the middle of the table.

“Do you want to go see her again soon?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Castiel nodded, telling Dean his father’s next scheduled business trip to be just after Thanksgiving. Dean promised to drive him there in the Impala, ignoring Castiel’s protests when he tried to insist he didn’t mind taking the bus. Eventually, he gave in, locking eyes unfalteringly with Dean when he thanked him. Dean’s breath caught in his throat and he stuttered out a “no problem.”

They let the conversation gently return to more light-hearted topics, Dean interrupting his own story about the time Sam was high on laughing gas after getting his wisdom teeth removed to nod towards Castiel’s fries where they sat neglected in a fancy paper cone.  

“You gonna eat those?” he asked.

“They’ll be cold,” Castiel chuckled, but Dean just shrugged and took them anyway, dousing them in ketchup before continuing his story.

He was waiting on Castiel to come back from the toilet when he caught a glimpse of red hair for the second time that day. He wasn’t even that surprised; this place does kind of seem like Charlie’s kind of gig. He ignored the passing thought that that was why he picked this place to eat, and angled himself to get a better view of her. Nothing seemed particularly odd; she was just talking with a waitress, chatting her up by the looks of it.

Her eyes flitted over to Dean briefly, the annoyance settling in her face as she marched over. Dean pointedly stared at a framed piece of art on she wall as she approached, pretending he hadn’t noticed her.

“Dude, are you following me?” Charlie jabbed, sliding into Castiel’s seat.

“What, no, this is completely coincidental, honest,” Dean defended, holding his palms up.

Charlie watched him, chewing on one of Castiel’s cold fries thoughtfully. Then, she beamed at something over Dean’s shoulder. It was Castiel returning from the bathroom. He reached their table, grumbling something about the “stupid hand dryer” which was interrupted by a hug from Charlie.

“So, how come you’re so suspicious about me bumping into you twice today?” Dean challenged Charlie while she and Cas pulled apart.

“Dean,” Castiel chided tiredly.

“Okay, you got me!” Charlie exclaimed, waving her hands theatrically. Dean and Castiel shared a curious glance, and then returned their attention to Charlie.

 She slumped back into Castiel’s seat and began to speak.

“I may or may not have had to leave town to organise a couple things along the lines of me getting a new identity,” she said quickly.

“Wait, is this some kind of LGBTQ thing, ‘cause I don’t...?” Dean interjected, his nose wrinkled in confusion.

“More like a “hi my name’s not actually Charlie, nice to meet ya” kind of thing,” Charlie explained cautiously.

There was a long silence before Castiel eventually muttered, “I think I’m going to require an extra chair for this,” and stalked off to find an empty table to steal one from. Dean just continued to stare at Charlie who was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.

When Castiel was back and seated between the other two, Charlie continued.

“So, basically, when I was 12 I hacked into a game to make it reflect my flamingly liberal politics and released it for free, thus leading to my arrest and then me being on the run for the past 5 years under the name Charlie Bradbury.” She was speaking in a hushed tone, leaning forward slightly. The three of them looked like they were simply gossiping about a fellow student, not discussing Charlie’s felonious backstory.

Dean blinked, and Castiel was giving her his “classic Castiel look” of utter confusion.

“So, what, you’re like a fugitive?” Dean asks disbelievingly.

Charlie shrugged. “I like to think myself as more like Frodo when he goes by the name “Underhill” to evade the Nazgûls on his quest against Saruman.”

“Your “Saruman” being, what, right-wing politics?” Dean offered, impressed by Charlie’s analogy.

“Yeah, exactly!” Charlie agreed excitedly.

Castiel was still trying to process this. “So, wait. Why did you disappear this weekend?”

“Right, yeah,” Charlie refocused herself. “The feds somehow found reason to believe their gal is currently studying in Kansas,” she gestured towards herself, “so it looks like I have to go back under. Carrie Heinlen, pleased to meet ya,” she added, extending a hand.

“This- you-” Dean stuttered, shaking her hand weakly.

Charlie nodded as if he had formed a coherent sentence. “I know right.”

Eventually Dean managed to say, “You’re awesome,” which Charlie could not fault.

“Does this mean you have to leave Kansas?” Castiel asked at the same time Dean asked, “so, what’s your real name if it isn’t Charlie or Carrie?”

“It’s kinda looking that way, yeah,” Charlie said in response to Castiel’s question, before turning to Dean and saying, “Celeste Middleton.”

Both Castiel’s and Dean’s faces fell.

“Where will you go?” Castiel asked.

“I guess I’ll find a job where I can put my nerd skills to use,” Charlie responded coolly. “Chicago looks fun.”

When Dean noticed something fishy about Charlie, he was not anticipating this. In all fairness, he doesn’t know what he was expecting, but, fuck, was it definitely not this. He could say the same for Castiel.

Later that night, when they were back in Castiel’s bed, Dean playing big spoon (because he’s “taller, so it makes more sense”), all he could bring himself to say on the matter was “what the hell,” to which Castiel simply grunted his agreement. 


	12. Chapter 12

 

“I forgot to ask you last night,” Dean said, looking up from his phone. “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

Castiel tilted his head to view Dean and shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess I was just gonna stay here,” he said, ducking his head to continue reading his book- some New York Times bestseller that he was getting pretty into.

“Bullshit.”

Castiel looked back up from his book to see Dean watching him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“You’re coming back to Lawrence with me,” Dean said with conviction.

“Dean…”

“What? Come on, you’ll get to meet Bobby and Ellen. Jo’ll be there; It’ll be fun.”

There was a moment of Castiel and Dean just staring at each other, Dean’s eyes looking what Castiel could only read as hopeful. Castiel loosened his demeanour, a sign that he was relenting, and Dean’s face lit up. He was becoming almost fluent in Castiel’s body language.

“I do want to see Jo again. And meet Bobby,” Castiel admitted.

“Awesome,” Dean smiled. “I’ll tell mom you’re coming.” He retrieved his phone and started tapping away at the screen.

Castiel stared at the printed letters in his book, not really reading them, while Dean muttered something excitedly about Ellen’s apple pies being the best in the world.

“Are you sure I won’t be imposing, Dean?”

Dean looked up from his phone and squinted at Castiel.

“Don’t think like that, you’re part of the family now. My mom, Sammy, Jo; they love you. Bobby and Ellen will too.”

Castiel smiled shyly. “Thanks, Dean.”

Dean responded with his winning smile - the one that made his eyes crinkle – and strolled over to plant a kiss on the top of his head before heading out to class.

* * *

 

Castiel managed to pry himself from his book in order to head out to the library with the intention of finding one on Eschatology, but when he got there he found himself wandering past the Theology section and towards the Mythology books instead.

It didn’t take him long to be sucked into a book filled with psychological interpretations of Greek mythology, learning the origin of the term ‘narcissism’ and of the birth of abstract thought represented by Metis.  He read about the Gods and the Goddesses; of their personifications of human emotions and qualities, the human condition, the state of society, lost in their stories and connections with each other until someone’s voice drew him back into reality.

“Earth to Castiel?”

When Castiel dragged his eyes away from the book, Charlie was sitting across from him where he sat hunched over a table at the back of the library. She smiled.

“That looks like a pretty cool book,” she commented, tilting her head towards it.

Castiel returned the smile, closing the book and sliding it aside. “It is,” he agreed. He surveyed his friend before him for a moment before asking, “How are you?”

Charlie seemed taken aback for a second by the sincerity of his tone but answered in her usual ebullient nature, insisting that she is fine and that things are under control.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m now officially a college drop-out,” she said, less enthusiastically. Castiel noticed the way she slouched slightly when she told him, her eyes dropping to the table briefly.

His face fell. “I see,” was all he could muster. He’d reopened the book and was fidgeting with the bottom-right corner of a page, folding and unfolding it.

Charlie watched his fingers and said, “My parents would be so proud”, with a half-hearted laugh.

Castiel pondered on two words from those sentences- _would be_ \- but decided not to ask.  Instead he asked her if she’d spoken to Dean yet, the answer being no, and then if she was going to Chicago.

“Well, it does have The Bean,” Charlie mused.

“So it’s a no brainer then. What’s the point in going anywhere else if it doesn’t have a giant chrome bean?”

Charlie laughed lightly. “Those were my exact thoughts.”

“I’m going to miss your absolute persistence to get me drunk every Friday night,” Castiel said lowly, tucking his chin into his chest.

“Same, man, but you’re acting like I’m going on a five-year mission to boldly go where no man has gone before. I’ll only be an eight hour drive away- we’ll have plenty more occasions to get you drunk,” Charlie teased.

Castiel chuckled, feeling a lot better about the situation but it still didn’t change the fact that he really was going to miss her and her weird pop culture references that he didn’t usually understand- although more often lately, since spending so much time with her and Dean.

“This conversation feels like a goodbye,” he observed.

“I guess it kinda is for a bit- I’m catching a bus tonight and then I’m Carrie Heinlen.”

Castiel shakes his head. “I still can’t believe-” he cuts himself off, making a circular motion with his hand- “this…”

“I know right. My life is like a movie. Which is kinda awesome when it’s not extremely annoying.”

Castiel snorts, displaying a one-sided smile. “What do the others know? Or think?”

“I trusted them enough to know the truth but you and Dean know a bit more. You don’t have to hide anything from them is what I’m saying.”

Charlie took in a deep breath then let it go, suggesting to Castiel that this conversation was coming to an end.

“The bus is super soon, so…” So, this conversation really is a goodbye.

  _For now_ , Castiel had to remind himself.

He nodded and stood, meeting Charlie in the middle for a hug. She buried her head in his chest and when they pulled apart, Castiel noticed Dean approaching behind her. Charlie must have texted him because he looked wistful, like he was preparing himself for a goodbye.  

Charlie turned around, allowing Dean to wrap her in his arms. He squeezed her and dropped a kiss to the top of her head, before making a Star Wars reference when she told him she loved him.

“You too, Cassie,” she said, turning back to face Castiel.

“Just please don’t become a stranger,” Castiel almost pleaded.

“Hey, you ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” Charlie winked. She crouched down to grab a duffel bag that Castiel hadn’t noticed she’d brought, and swung it over her shoulder.

Then, she stood in front of the two boys, looking up at them fondly, and brought her hand up in the Vulcan salute.

“I guess I’ll smell ya later, bitches.”

Castiel and Dean laughed softly, watching her as she turned and disappeared amongst the aisles of books.

“Man…” Dean breathed, turning to Castiel.

Castiel simply slumped back into his chair.

 

* * *

 

They were back at the apartment, packing bags for a Winchester-Harvelle thanksgiving in Lawrence.

Castiel threw in his (or rather the library’s) Greek Mythology book along with a pair of old sweatpants, his well-worn pair of jeans and a nice shirt, while Dean seemed conflicted over which flannel to bring.

“Hey, Cas,” he said, abandoning the flannel situation. “Wanna get drunk tonight? I really feel like getting drunk.”

Castiel craned his neck to face Dean, his lips twitching at the corners. He shrugged.

“It only seems right,” he appraised, referring to Charlie’s infamous drinking games.

“Exactly,” Dean said, waving a hand, before shoving it into his jeans’ pocket.

“Shouldn’t we be keeping ourselves in a presentable condition for tomorrow, though?”

“Nah,” Dean removed the hand in his pocket to flick his wrist as if sweeping Castiel’s words aside. “We don’t have to leave ‘til the P.M. so we’re good. We’ve got time to recover.”

Castiel snickers. “Okay then, let’s get drunk.”

Ten minutes later they’re sat facing each other on the floor with a bottle of cheap whiskey between them and a couple shot glasses.

“Game is Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” Castiel cocked an eyebrow.

“We either talk bullshit to each other or we speak the truth. Then we guess which one it was. You guess right, the other drinks. You guess wrong, you drink. Comprende?”

Castiel nodded, intrigued. “Comprendo.”

One corner of Dean’s mouth curled upwards and he rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

Another ten minutes later and Castiel was on his third shot while Dean had taken zero. Dean was laughing and shaking his head. “Man, you’re the crappiest liar I’ve ever met.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and threw his third shot back, scrunching his face up at the burn of the sharp liquid seeping down his throat. “This whiskey is disgusting. I can feel it in my nose.”

“Okay, just because it’s no fun being the only one sober, I’m gonna go easy on you for a bit.”

Unsure exactly of how Dean planned to do that, Castiel allowed it anyway when it was Dean’s turn to speak again.

“Right. Uh, when I was 14, me and Sammy, we were, uh, exploring a corn field and I got abducted by aliens. I mean, they probed me and everything, the whole works. And, uh, they made me dance with them. It was… _horrible_ ,” Dean grimaced.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean and burst into laughter, shaking his head at the absurdity of Dean’s words. Dean watched him with bright eyes, his mouth twitching where he suppressed a smile.

When Castiel had composed himself he looked back at Dean and cleared his throat, feigning earnestness. “My God, that sounds awful”, he said, the sarcasm oozing from his words.

“It really was,” Dean nodded.

“But since I don’t actually believe in aliens I think I’ll call bullshit.” Castiel leaned back on his hands.

Dean broke into a smile, taking in a sharp breath through his teeth while he threw his arms into the air in fake anguish. “Man, you got me.”

Then he leaned forward and poured himself a shot of whiskey, pulling a face when it went down. “Ugh, that _is_ disgusting. We need to steal some of Bobby’s good stuff tomorrow.”

Castiel watched his fingers flip his shot glass upside down and the right way up again, leaving a ring of whiskey on their wooden floor. Meanwhile, his mind was busy formulating a story for Dean to either label bullshit or the truth.

When he looked back up, his story waiting on his lips, the way in which Dean was looking at him caused his breath to hitch. He narrowed his eyes, not in a hostile way, just in that way he does when he feels like he’s missed something, and Dean chuckled.

Castiel had started to blush by this point, feeling the warmth creep up his neck and colouring his cheeks.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, you’re just…” Dean struggled to settle on the right word. “Just tell your story you gorgeous son-of-a-bitch.”

Castiel blinked, brushing Dean’s weird compliment aside and told his story.

“Okay, so, when my brother Gabe was 12 and I was 10, he decided it would be funny to play a Halloween prank on his math teacher.”

Dean perked up at the mention of Castiel’s MIA brother.

“He very kindly gave said teacher a caramelised “apple””, Cas continued, air quoting the world ‘apple’. “Except it wasn’t an apple, it was an onion and long story short, it turned out his teacher had a pretty severe onion allergy and consequences ensued.”

Dean’s mouth quirked. He wanted the story to be true because first of all, that means Castiel has shared something personal on an area of his life Dean knows little of, and second of all it gives Dean a reason to like his boyfriend’s brother. But, seriously, who the fuck is allergic to onions?

Dean voiced the latter argument, and Castiel half-shrugged. “It’s actually a fairly common allergy.”

“Alright. True.”

Castiel smiled and poured himself a shot.

“I like this brother of yours,” Dean remarked, watching Castiel drain the shot glass.

“I like him too,” Castiel agreed. He was starting to feel the alcohol behind his eyes.

Dean reached for the bottle and brought it to his lips, abandoning the game.

“Do you miss him?” he spoke into the bottle before taking a swig.

Castiel nodded, holding an arm out for the bottle in Dean’s hand. Once he’d taken a sip, and passed the bottle back to Dean, he spoke.

“He has returned home several times since Anna fell ill, as I’ve been told, but he’s on the other side of the country…” Castiel shrugged, accepting the whiskey back from Dean. “I guess time and money for flights are hard to come by.” He took a swig.

Dean hummed musingly.

“Anna says the last time he visited, a while back, he was working at getting leave from work to return home for a while, for…” Castiel trailed off, scratching at the label on the whiskey bottle.

Dean bowed his head, pulling his brows together, and tightened his lips into a thin line. Anna’s powerlessness to get better was something he often forgot, and whenever he was reminded of this, his heart ached for Castiel. One day Cas is going to lose his sister and Dean is going to have to watch him fall to pieces. The fact that Dean is going be there to pick up the pieces and glue them back together is indisputable, but whether he can do a good enough job is what eats at him. He peered at Castiel through his lashes to see him pouring them each a shot. Sliding the glasses aside, he leaned forward to be in Castiel’s space and put a hand on his cheek, thumbing his cheekbone. Castiel stared back, unblinking.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all this crap, Cas. I wanna just take it all and shove it up God’s sorry ass, but all I know to do is this.” He pressed their lips together in one open-mouthed kiss, then another.

“I thought you didn’t believe in God,” Castiel murmured between kisses.

Dean knocked foreheads with Cas.

“’S easier to believe there’s some douchebag entity out there doing this than just chance. Gives me someone to blame.”

Castiel’s eyes fluttered open and he pulled his head back to lock eyes with Dean.

“These things just happen. To nobody’s fault. Feeling angry or blaming it on someone else- it’s just exhausting.”

Castiel knew this from experience. He tried blaming everything on his dad, on God too, but it didn’t cure Anna. It didn’t bring him home. There was nothing he could change. It was like that Doris Day song with the Spanish phrase people like to tattoo on themselves- _que sera sera_. Although he couldn’t deny that he would prefer to just feel angry sometimes rather than feel sad. Anger is easier to channel, easier to release. Sadness is just an ever-returning heaviness in your chest that you can’t seem to shake off. Still, it was less draining than feeding the hatred inside him for someone, anyone, who could possibly be the cause for how he was feeling. Less draining than wanting to scream all the damn time or lash out at the nearest unfortunate object.

Dean mused on Castiel’s words for a moment, before nodding lightly. “You’re right.”

He leaned in for one more whiskey flavoured kiss.

Half an hour later, several more shots had been had and the sincerity had turned into fits of giggles. Dean was slurring some joke about a family of tomatoes he learnt from the movie Pulp Fiction, but all he managed was something along the lines of, “tomatoes, right. So, baby’s slow, ‘n’ papa tom-” pause for hiccup, “tomato, smooshes baby ‘n’ says ketchup.”

Castiel wasn’t listening, anyway. He was too preoccupied with styling Dean’s hair into an array of spikes akin to a hedgehog’s, mumbling something about crushing on Sonic when he was a kid.

Dean took Castiel’s wrists in his hands, bringing them away from his hair, and pulled him down, somewhat clumsily, to the floor with him. His lips found Castiel’s neck, sucking a hickey into the hollow of his throat, and Cas curved his neck to give him better access, tugging at Dean’s newly styled hair.

“So hot,” Dean purred into Cas’ skin. He rolled on top of him, and Castiel managed to find his lips, only bumping chins with him twice. Dean began to roll his hips down onto Cas, prompting a small gasp from each of them. Castiel’s grip on Dean’s hair tightened and he pushed his tongue into Dean’s mouth, the ensuing kiss being the sloppiest they’ve shared yet.

Dean was crooning a range of poorly-formed explicit sentences into Castiel’s ear and then Castiel was suddenly very confused as to why they were both still fully clothed and began tugging at Dean’s Henley. Dean caught on, and pulled back to be straddling Castiel’s groin, dragging the shirt over his head. He threw it to the side and began unbuttoning Castiel’s shirt, planting hot kisses on the newly exposed skin. Castiel began to squirm under Dean’s lips as they got closer to the waistband of his jeans. Dean started to fumble with the buttons and zipper, eventually gaining access to Castiel’s swollen member. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking languidly while his lips explored the dip between his neck and collarbone.

“Dean…” Castiel moaned, sliding his fingers from Dean’s hair to claw at the back of his neck. He then pulled Dean’s face up for a bruising kiss, tugging his bottom lip when he pulled away. Dean leaned in for another kiss before murmuring something about “it being too dry” and then his tongue was on Castiel’s dick and he was sucking on the tip in an open-mouthed kiss and Castiel couldn’t hold in the moans that escaped his throat. He dug his fingers into Dean’s shoulders as he was taken down whole, Dean’s bee stung lips gliding from base to tip.

When Castiel finally came with a shout, Dean guided him through his orgasm before flopping down on top of him while Castiel caught his breath. He nuzzled Castiel’s neck, listening to the first drops of rain against the windows, as they built heavier and heavier until he fell asleep to the incessant pulse of rainfall outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Pulp Fiction joke:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5D_QKY0_Bxk


	13. Chapter 13

Dean spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, rubbing at the base of his neck with one hand while he used the other to rinse the minty bubbles down the drain. He rolled his shoulders back and groaned.

He had many things to be thankful for this thanksgiving, but one thing he was definitely not feeling thankful for right then was alcohol. And wooden floors. As he padded out the bathroom, he shot the empty bottle of whiskey a pointed glare where it lay on the floor as if it was actually capable of feeling shame for the discomfort it had caused him.

Next to the bottle was Castiel, still sprawled out on the floor, snoring lightly through parted lips. His jeans were unbuttoned still and his left cheek was squished against the floor. This really should be an unattractive image, but it wasn’t. Looking unattractive seemed to be one of the things Castiel was worse at and Dean cursed this every day.

Dean rolled his neck and groaned again, moving to pick the bottle up from the floor. As he was straightening back up, Castiel stirred and woke sounding disgruntled. He squinted at Dean groggily and croaked, “Mouth. Dry.”

Dean smiled and offered him the whiskey bottle, laughing when he received Castiel’s death glare.

“I’m just messing with ya,” he said, turning towards the bathroom to fetch him a glass of water.

Castiel appeared at the doorway as he was turning off the tap. He took the glass from Dean and drained it in record time, then said in a less croaky voice, “a nice, respectable boyfriend would have carried me bridal style to a soft, comfortable bed when he woke up.”

Dean chuckled and shrugged. “Trust me, buddy, I tried. But you-” he pointed lazily Cas- “are heavy. And I am in agony here,” he finished, pointing at himself.

“I am not heavy,” Castiel muttered, grabbing his toothbrush and loading it up with toothpaste.

“Sure,” Dean said, doing the same as Cas. “I can’t get the taste of goddamn whiskey out my mouth.”

Castiel spat into the sink and turned to face Dean. “Let me help you with that,” he said, resting the tip of his toothbrush against his bottom lip.

“You just spat your minty saliva into the sink, am I supposed to be charmed?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and leaned into Dean’s space to kiss the toothpaste residue from the corner of his lips, before licking into his mouth languidly. Dean returned the kiss, tasting the toothpaste in his cool breath. He was vaguely aware of the way his lips began to tingle.

He hummed. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“Good.” Castiel kissed him again chastely and continued to brush his teeth.

Dean found it hard to brush his teeth around the cheesy grin on his face.

 

* * *

 

Dean swatted Cas’ hand from where it tried to change the radio station to one with a little less heavy drumming and guitar solos and a little more harmonies perhaps sung by four men who once donned very similar mop-top haircuts.

“Hey, hey, driver picks the music,” he said, mostly just out of habit.

But when he looked at Cas he was giving him blue Curaçao flavoured puppy dog eyes and he suddenly felt in the mood for anything Castiel was. Hell, he’d even listen to Taylor Swift if that’s what Cas had a particular taste for right now.

So, Castiel found a station playing ‘Go Your Own Way’ by Fleetwood Mac and Dean was only vaguely aware he’d been singing along until the chorus when Cas joined him and they were both bellowing the lyrics between fits of laughter and head bops.  

The rest of the car journey was filled with similar antics.

 

* * *

 

“I see my matchmaking skills were a success,” Jo said gaily, laying a knife and fork on top of one of the napkins Dean had carefully folded at each seat of the dinner table.

Dean looked up from the stain on the wine glass he’d been eyeing to glance at her, then at Castiel who sat with Sam in the living room watching a F.R.I.E.N.D.S Thanksgiving special, and scoffed.

They'd arrived at the Winchester house about an hour ago, closely followed by Jo, Ellen and Bobby.

“What makes you think this was your work?” he teased.

Jo rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip. “Please, if it wasn’t for me you’d have been too chicken to make that move in the elevator-” she interrupted herself to wiggle her eyebrows suggestively- “and you’d probably still be trying to convince yourself you’re straight.”

Dean held a hand up in surrender. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, he knew she was right. One person he was the most stubborn with was himself, and without her help he would have adamantly told himself he was straight for the rest of his life just because that was his initial belief.

“Okay, alright, thank you _Millionaire Matchmaker,_ ” he said begrudgingly. “And I only told you about our _Love in an Elevator_ because I was drunk so you can go back to pretending you know nothing about that,” he added, pointing the wine glass at her before placing it down with its crockery companions at the head of the table.

Jo ignored him.

“Should we have folded the napkins into turkeys or something?” she mused.

Dean shook his head, ambling into the kitchen where his mom and Ellen were preparing dinner and got himself recruited in slicing apples for Ellen’s pie.

He was badgering her about the secret ingredient to said pie when Castiel and Sam wandered in offering to help.

“You boys can make yourselves useful by waking Bobby up an’ tellin’ him there’s potatoes that need mashing,” Ellen responded then muttered under her breath, “Watching the game, my ass.”

 “And you can go with them so I can add my secret ingredient,” she added to Dean and so he slumped off.

 He almost jumped out of his skin when she called, “Joanna-Beth, get your ass in here!” from directly behind him and when Jo entered the kitchen he muttered, “I’ll give you five dollars if you tell me her secret ingredient,” but all she responded with was a knowing smile before she slinked past him to join her mother.

 

* * *

 

The Winchester Thanksgiving was unique in that it wasn’t just the Winchester Thanksgiving it was the Winchester-Harvelle-Singer Thanksgiving and it almost always had been, as far as Sam and Dean can remember.

The only thing that’s changed over the years are some of those sitting at the dinner table, ever since Bobby lost his wife, followed by the Harvelles’ loss of Bill and, more recently, the Winchesters’ loss of John.  

But this year, they’ve gained a new member to the family, who was holding hands with Dean under the table, and he’s never felt more overwhelmed by family life, by a family who mostly aren’t even blood-related to each other.

Five minutes into dinner, Ellen had already reprimanded Bobby for putting too much butter on his potatoes; Mary had had to settle a scuffle between Sam and Dean over the palatability of liquorice or something (Cas hadn’t paid attention to those details, he just enjoyed watching Dean argue so passionately in favor of a snack he said were “like little chewy pieces of heaven”); and Jo had teased Sam about Jess until he had gone in a huff that lasted approximately thirty seconds.

The proceeding few minutes were all focused on Castiel himself while Bobby and Ellen quizzed him on his hobbies and interests.

 Dean jumped in at one point and explained Castiel’s interest in humanity and his love for street photography and Castiel was fully aware he was blushing.

 

* * *

 

Castiel repositioned his head on Dean’s stomach, temporarily interrupting the motion of Dean’s fingers carding through his hair. They’d hardly moved for the last few hours since retiring to the sofa after dinner.

Bobby was asleep on the armchair; Jo and Sam had moved to the floor to be sprawled out in front of Sam’s laptop, watching Netflix through shared headphones; and Mary and Ellen were absorbed in their own conversation with just a little too much whiskey in their systems.

“Easy there on the stomach, babe,” Dean groaned.

Castiel apologised via a discreet kiss above Dean’s bellybutton, and then peered up at him.

“I’d like to see where you grew up,” he said. “Will you show me?”

Dean shrugged and smiled. “Sure, buddy. I’ll give you a full tour in the a.m.”

He toyed with a lock of Cas’ hair from behind his ear.

“Let’s go now,” Cas said quietly.

Dean raised his eyebrows and laughed softly.

 “You sure? You look like you could conk out any minute.”

“Mmhm, let’s go.”

Castiel pushed himself upright, stretching out his long limbs as he did so, reminding Dean of a cat.

Dean stood and turned to Mary. “Uh, mom, Cas and me are… heading out for a bit so don’t wait up.”

“Oh, okay, honey,” Mary said, giving him a funny but somewhat drunkenly amused look.

Dean stared back for a moment, calculating her look before falling into awkward, panic mode.

“U-uh, no, I mean this is completely innocent- childhood tour- we’re not, uh…” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Goodnight, Ms. Winchester. Ellen,” Castiel jumped in, smiling charmingly and taking Dean’s hand to lead him out the door. “Dinner was lovely,” he called over his shoulder as they were closing the door behind them.

 They stood on the porch, the nippy air already biting at their noses.

“Thank you,” Dean said, his breath visible in the air.

“People say I’m the awkward one,” Castiel smirked, and Dean ducked his head, hoping the blush on his cheeks would pass as a result of the cold air.

Castiel found his hand and intertwined their fingers.

“So, are we gonna do this tour?” he asked moments later.

Dean had been staring at him since he’d laced their hands together, unable to drag his eyes from the way the late autumn air somehow managed to turn his lips even pinker or how it caused his eyes to shine even brighter.

“Yeah, just…” he breathed, brushing a thumb over Castiel’s bottom lip. “Just a minute.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and tilted his head to press their lips together for a lasting kiss. Dean could feel Cas’ lips form a smile against his and when they pulled apart he was sure he saw the blinds of the living room window flutter.

Castiel must have seen it too because he said, “Don’t they know this is a private tour,” to which Dean laughed and slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into his side.

“Anyway,” he said, “Thank you for choosing this tour of, uh… the Early Years of Dean Winchester.”

He led them down the porch steps and round to the back garden, continuing his narration as he did so.

 “Flash photography is prohibited and I ask that you refrain from touching things where possible,” he joked.

“What about the tour guide?” Castiel asked.

“I think we can make an exception for that,” Dean said, tightening his grip around Castiel’s shoulders as demonstration, and planted a kiss on his temple.

They reached the back of the garden.

“On this tour you will get to see the many great landmarks of my childhood, such as…” he interrupted himself to position Castiel over a very specific patch of grass under a moulting ash tree.

“The very place I had my first kiss,” he finished, rather reminiscently.

He stepped into the space in front of Cas, calculating his expression, and decided to continue.

“This girl, Cassie,” he cleared his throat awkwardly at the coincidental name, “she, uh, was in my music class and I had a crush on her so I offered her a guitar lesson, ‘cos she was struggling.”

He pulled himself and Castiel down to be sitting cross-legged on the grass, and pretended to be holding a guitar.

“I was showing her how to position her fingers for a C chord,” he spoke lowly, leaning into Castiel’s space and taking his hand to move his fingers gently into place over an imaginary guitar.   

“And I sorta just…” he whispered, holding his lips millimetres from Castiel’s.

Castiel, meanwhile, had forgotten how to breathe and was sat there with his fingers frozen over his invisible guitar strings and eyes fixed on Dean’s lips, waiting.

However, Dean snapped back, out of Castiel’s bubble, with a playful grin across his ridiculously pretty face. Castiel let go of his breath, forming a cloud of steam between them, and thumped Dean’s knee.

Dean laughed and knocked their foreheads together.

“Just kidding.”

He kissed him this time and Castiel imagined Cassie felt just like this, her skin hot despite the cold, the butterflies in her stomach, her heart doing backflips in her chest. He wondered if he’d ever stop feeling those things whenever Dean kissed him.

“Are we going to kiss at every landmark?” he murmured hopefully when they stopped for air.

Dean responded with another kiss.

They were halfway down the street now, Dean swinging their hands between them as they reached the local park. He led them to the swing set where one of the swing seats had a generous helping of bird poop on it. He grimaced and flipped the seat over, wishing Sam was there so he could push him onto it.

They swayed idly back and forth on the swings, staring up at the sky. It was too cloudy to see many stars but it was pretty nonetheless.

“This is where I got my first scar,” Dean said eventually, looking back at Castiel who had begun to watch him instead of the sky.

“When you were a kid, you ever pretend you were superman on the swings?”

Castiel smiled and nodded, “I would pretend I could fly, yes.”

Dean smiled back. “Yeah, well, when I was eight I swung too high and lost my balance- sliced open my palm on a really sharp rock. Hurt my chin pretty bad too.”

He held out his hand, pulling his bracelets away to reveal a small mark at the base of his palm. Castiel thumbed the scar, holding Dean’s wrist in his palm.

“Maybe you should have left saving the world to Clark Kent,” he teased.

Dean laughed, his eyes crinkling.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed, still smiling. He stood up and closed his scarred palm around Castiel’s. “Come on, tour ain’t over.”

They strolled out the park and back along Dean’s street. Dean pointed at one of the houses excitedly, telling Castiel it was Missouri’s and how she made the best pies.

“I thought that was Ellen,” Castiel said, and then Dean suddenly looked very conflicted.

They continued down the street, passing a house with a front garden infested with gnomes and other themed garden ornaments. Dean noticed Castiel staring and said, “Yeah that place freaked the shit outta me as a kid. I have no explanation for that, sorry,” pulling a face.

He pointed at a drain in the ground.

“That’s where I lost a tooth when biting into one of those jelly dolphin-shaped candies you get at the movies. Popped right out and I never found it, I guess it fell down there.”

“But did the tooth fairy still come?” Castiel asked with fake concern.

“Oh yeah, never doubt the tooth fairy, man,” Dean said, then added, “It’s also where Sammy dropped his Buzz Lightyear toy and cried for a damn week.”

Castiel couldn’t help smiling at the fondness in Dean’s tone when he spoke about his brother, despite how hard he tried to sound annoyed.

He pressed himself further into Dean’s side, and Dean released his hand to wrap his arm around his waist, pulling him in.

Dean seemed to be leading them out of his street and they found themselves at some old, suburban soccer field.  Castiel followed him into the equipment shed, squinting his eyes when Dean switched on the light. They slid to the floor in silence, Castiel watching Dean carefully. He was looking broodingly at the ground, and hadn’t said anything in a while. Castiel started to wonder if this wasn’t the same kind of childhood landmark they’d visited previously.

After a while Dean gave Castiel a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and said, “I once spent a whole week here. Came here every day and just stayed here for as long as I could get away with before I’d get grounded or people showed up to play soccer.”

Castiel knitted his brows together.

“What did you do all day?” he asked gingerly.

Dean felt claustrophobic. He didn’t mean to bring Castiel here, it just sort of happened. Castiel was looking at him funny. He didn’t look scared, just worried. Or confused.  

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, cried. Mostly,” he said with a short, emotionless laugh. “Screamed, broke stuff,” he continued.

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes darting around Dean’s face, desperately trying to grasp some sort of explanation, before it hit him. _His Dad_.

Dean watched the realisation dawn on Cas’ face, watched his expression change from confusion to hurt, and smiled wanly.

“I’m sorry, man, I don’t know why brought you here. I haven’t been here in over a year…” Dean said weakly.

“This is where you came after the crash?”

“Yeah, it was as soon as I was released from hospital I just, I don’t know, I ran and I found myself in here and then I just kept coming back.” After a moment he continued, “my dad and me used to come here to play catch, so…”

Castiel bowed his head then returned his gaze to Dean. He leaned forward and rested their foreheads together while catching a lone tear that escaped Dean’s eye. Dean dropped his head to Castiel’s shoulder.

 “I’m good. I’m good, it just feels weird being back here when things are so different now, it’s hard to explain,” he murmured into Castiel’s jacket.

“I think I understand what you mean.”

Dean nodded then pulled back quickly, standing up. The smile on his face seemed more genuine this time.

“Let’s go, it’s getting late,” he said, extending a hand for Castiel and pulling him up when he accepted it.

He wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his hand as they exited the shed.

“Who was your first kiss, Cas?” he said, more than ready to change the topic of conversation.

“Oh, um… this girl called April. She’s the only girl I’ve kissed,” Castiel explained. He stole a glance at Dean to see he was looking intently at him, and so continued.

“The first boy I kissed was this guy Balthazar. He’s really laid-back, doesn’t care what anyone thinks and he kinda just decided he wanted to kiss me one day at a house party, so he did.”

“Wow,” Dean scoffed.

“Yeah, it took me by surprise,” Castiel half-smiled.

“Did you like him?” Dean asked, knocking shoulders with Cas.

Castiel smiled shyly. “Yeah,” he admitted.

“What happened?”

“He just did it for fun; nothing else happened.”

“It’s ‘cos God was warming you up for me,” Dean said, shooting Cas his flirty smile.

“Is that so?” Castiel scoffed.

“Yep.”

They got in just after 1a.m. and the house was still and dark inside.

“Ssshh,” Dean hushed, pressing a finger to his lips.

They crept upstairs, shutting the door behind them when they arrived at Dean’s room. Then Castiel had his lips on Dean’s and he was walking him backwards to his bed. When Dean’s legs hit the side of the bed, he fell backwards, head landing on the pillow. He positioned himself to be lying on his side and Castiel moved in beside him so they were facing each other. His lips found Dean’s again.

“I’d like it if we made out until we fell asleep,” he said between kisses.

“I can do that.”

* * *

 

A hand clamped down on Dean’s shoulder causing him to jump and drop the soapy dish he was holding in the sink.

“Ya idjit,” laughed a gruff voice.

He turned around to see an amused Bobby leaning against the counter.

“Shit, Bobby…” Dean huffed, wiping a cluster of bubbles onto his brow.

Bobby decided not to point it out for his own amusement.

Dean retrieved the plate from the basin and continued to scrub it clean.

“Can I help you?” he said.

“Just came to let ya know I’m heading off. Gotta open shop.”  

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Dean said turning to face Bobby properly.

“It was good to see you, boy,” Bobby said.

“Yeah, you too, man. Hey, you’re not working too hard over at the shop, right? You got help over there?”

“This you checking if I’ve replaced you?”

Dean scoffed, and then considered this.

“Yeah, I’ve got help,” Bobby continued. He put his hand back on Dean’s shoulder. “Listen, that Castiel. He’s a good kid. Don’t mess it up.”

Dean glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back at Bobby’s face.

“I don’t plan on messing this up, Bobby, believe me.”

 “He ain’t the kind I ever imagined you ending up with…”

“You mean ‘cos he has a dick?” Dean said, returning his attention to the dishes.

“Well… yeah. But, guy or girl, I wouldn’t have pegged him as your type and… my point is despite that, you have something good going on there, and I know your history with girls, son.”

“Bobby,” Dean interrupted. “That guy,” he said, pointing towards the living room, where Castiel sat with Sam, “is the best thing to ever happen to me since… for years, and I’m not gonna let that go. Don’t worry.”

Bobby eyed Dean for a moment. He seemed to have decided he was satisfied with this, and patted Dean’s shoulder.

“Okay. Good,” he said in his usual gruff voice. “Good.”

“I’ll see you around, Bobby,” Dean said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Get off a’ me, ya idjit,” Bobby grumbled, half-accepting the gesture.

Dean laughed and waved him off.

After that, he found himself leaning against the door frame of the living room, smiling at his brother and boyfriend having a field day over some Greek Mythology book Cas had picked up in the library. Castiel noticed him in the doorway and smiled back briefly before pointing at something in the book for Sam to read.

Yeah, no fucking way was he letting this go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! I like the idea of Dean being willing/excited to share snippets of his childhood with Cas so i decided to write it :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, apologies in advance for this disappointing and very belated chapter, i have no excuse other than because i'm a piece of shit but please enjoy anyway :)
> 
> Also, in all seriousness though, thank you very much for the lovely feedback on my last chapter!

Dean pulled a surprised Castiel down to be on top of him on the bed.

“Hey, babe. How was class?” he said around a mouthful of chips.

“Dean, I still have my shoes on,” Castiel laughed while Dean struggled to shift their position so that he was spooning him. “What are you doing?” he laughed again when he felt Dean’s feet rubbing questionably against his own.

“Trying to push off your shoes,” Dean responded, his stubbled chin bumping against Cas’ neck during the struggle.

Castiel snorted at the new height Dean’s laziness appeared to be reaching but elected to shrug it off.

“You smell like smoky barbeque,” he observed, twisting his head to face Dean.

“Mm, you want some?”

Dean pulled away to grab his bag of chips and offered it to Castiel.

Castiel rolled his eyes as he accepted the bag, making a comment about how of course Dean would get up for food. 

Once they were finally lying comfortably, converse on the floor and Deans fingers idly tracing patterns under Castiel’s shirt, Castiel spoke on a more serious note.

“So it’s actually Anna’s birthday later this week so I was thinking we could throw her a party of sorts, tomorrow.”

“Sounds great, Cas,” Dean encouraged, nuzzling further into his neck.

Castiel nodded. There was a long silence.

Eventually, in a small voice, Castiel croaked, “It's gonna be her last” and Dean’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

 He pressed his lips onto Castiel’s neck, combing fingers soothingly through his hair.

“Hey, we'll go all out, get her a cake. What’s her favorite?” he whispered, nudging softly behind Castiel’s ear with his nose.

“Chocolate,” Castiel spoke lowly. He hadn’t noticed he’d started crying until he'd opened his mouth and tasted the salt.

 “Great. Hey, why don’t _we_ bake it?” Dean suggested, perking up.

Castiel laughed weakly. “It would be a disaster.”

“Ah, but a disaster filled with love.”

Castiel rolled over to face Dean properly and stared at him oddly, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What?” Dean asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

Castiel opened his mouth and closed it again, then said, “Nothing.”

Dean rolled the sleeve of his Henley down and wiped Cas’ eyes with it, before pulling them both upright on the bed.

“You okay here while I go get baking supplies?” he said, reaching for his boots on the floor.

Castiel nodded but Dean still hovered.

“Dean, I’m fine. Go,” Castiel insisted. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in 15 minutes.”

Dean hesitated another moment but then nodded and strode out, insisting he won’t be long.

* * *

 

Castiel wandered into the kitchen, thankful that it was almost empty, and leaned against a worktop pretending to be occupied by his phone until Dean ambled in, shopping bag in hand.

The crooked grin on Dean’s face vanished as soon as he was within a metre of Castiel, the worry lines settling in on his forehead.

“Your eyes are red,” he observed. “Dammit, Cas, I would have stayed- do you want to go back to the dorm?”

“I want to stay here and bake this cake. Please,” Castiel said, taking the bag from Dean’s hand.

He unloaded the contents onto the worktop while Dean hovered. At one point he pulled out a box of Funfetti and gave Dean a questioning look to which Dean shrugged, saying “Just in case.”

Baking a cake turned out to be a lot harder than both Castiel and Dean had previously imagined. On at least two occasions during the process, Castiel had tried to persuade Dean to just let them use the Funfetti but Dean was never ready to give up.

Several minutes were spent trying to fish tiny pieces of eggshell out of the surprisingly meticulously-measured concoction of dry ingredients because Dean’s buoyant comment that they will add “a nice crunch” to the cake wasn’t convincing enough for Castiel. And when it was finally time to mix everything together, Dean was almost sure his arm was going to fall off if he didn’t pass Castiel the wooden spoon in the next three seconds.

“I’m at least 90% sure it ain’t supposed to look like that,” Dean said, eyeing the lumpy batter dubiously.

Castiel flexed his fingers and wrapped them back around the wooden spoon.

“We just need to keep mixing,” he said.

“This is so much more exercise than I signed up for.”

Dean distracted himself watching the muscles in Cas’ forearm tense as he stirred the cake batter, then the way his nose scrunched up and the tip of his tongue stuck out in concentration. He noticed a smear of cocoa powder above Cas’ left brow and moved in behind him slowly, snaking his arms around his waist as he pressed into his back, mouth at his left ear.

Castiel’s stirring routine faltered and his breath hitched as he felt Dean’s own breath tickle his ear. Then, in a theatrically sensual tone of voice, Dean said, “Sir, you have a questionable, brown stain on your face,” and Castiel released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding through a laugh. He elbowed him playfully in the side, sending Dean stumbling backwards, a schoolboy grin on his face.

Since they’d arrived in the kitchen, any other students there with them had now left, leaving them the only ones there. Dean took advantage of this once the cake was finally in the oven, pulling Castiel down to the floor behind one of the worktops, out of view from the door. He was on him as soon as Cas’ butt hit the floor, climbing between Cas’ legs and planting kisses along his jaw. Castiel tilted his head back as Dean’s lips travelled down his neck and along his collarbone, his fingers pressing into the nape of Dean’s neck.

When Dean’s hands were up his shirt, pushing the materiel past his bellybutton, he wrapped a hand around one of Dean’s wrists, gaining his attention.

“Are we doing this _here?_ ”  he asked, and  by the expression on Dean’s face he assumed Dean had actually forgotten where they were.

Dean pulled back to be sitting on his knees between Cas’ legs and scratched at his jaw. He mentally calculated the distance from the kitchen to their dorm and then the distance between the kitchen and just about any other room on the floor they could find any semblance of privacy. Then he hoisted himself up, pulling Castiel with him until they reached the communal bathrooms where he pushed him into a cubicle, locking the door behind them.

Castiel opened his mouth to make some comment on the hygiene, or rather lack of, in doing what they were about to do in a public restroom but he was cut off by Dean’s lips. Instead, he dug fingers into Dean’s hips, and walked them backwards, still attached at the lips, so he could fall onto the toilet seat and hoist Dean onto his lap. When he could feel Dean’s erection pressing into his lower stomach he asked, rather breathily, “What if someone comes in?”

“Relax,” Dean responded, rolling down on Cas. “No one uses this room unless they’re showering in the mornings,” he assured after Cas released a small moan, dipping his head to nip at his neck.

It was clumsy, doing it in a cubicle. The loo roll holder kept getting in the way and they managed to accidentally flush the toilet at least three times thanks to the stupid automatic sensor. Castiel elbowed the wall at one point, trying to pull Dean closer to him and _seriously, why do they call that bone the funny bone because that pain was certainly not amusing,_ but Dean somehow managed to make kissing it better sexy, because of course Dean Winchester could, and then they were back on track. Until the toilet flushed again, causing Cas to jump and nose Dean in the eye.

“Whose idea was this?” Dean demanded, holding his palm against the offended eye.

“Dean,” Castiel groaned, prying Dean’s hand from his eye and guiding it back to his cock.

“Right, yeah.” Dean resumed his languid strokes, quickening the pace until Castiel was literally writhing under him, his breathy moans causing Dean’s own erection to swell.

Then someone walked in.

“Shit,” Dean whispered.

He released Castiel’s cock and clamped a hand around his mouth, but it was too late and Castiel was coming. _Fuck_ , Dean mouthed. Castiel whimpered against Dean’s palm, eyes squeezed shut, the orgasm coursing through his body, while Dean fumbled to catch it with his other hand. 

Strange shuffling noises and whispered cusses escaped the cubicle, earning a weird look from the student who definitely chose the wrong time to take a shower.

When Castiel was finally back on earth he glared directly into Dean’s eyes, lips pressed into a tight line. Dean merely shrugged, the sheepish look on his face just enough to soften Castiel’s glower, if only for a second. Then Castiel jerked his head in the direction of the showers where the patter of water against tile resonated, and Dean simply shrugged again, the discomfort of his still-present erection evident in his face. Castiel glanced towards the showers again then back at Dean and then began unzipping Dean’s jeans.

“Fuck it,” he barely whispered.

Okay, that was hot.

“Say that again,” Dean begged, struggling to keep his voice inaudible to their unwanted guest.

“What?” Cas mouthed, slipping a hand behind the waistband of Dean’s black boxers.

“Say fuck again, dammit,” Dean pleaded, completely forgetting to whisper this time and shifting awkwardly in Castiel’s lap.  

Castiel snickered and lifted his mouth to Dean’s ear, his fingers now wrapped around his swollen cock.

“Fuck,” he drawled, his voice breaking slightly in the effort to keep it quiet and that definitely did things to Dean because his hips jerked up into Castiel’s hand.

Castiel focused his lips on Dean’s neck, sucking a mark under his jaw.

“Mine,” he murmured, soothing the bite with his tongue, and Dean tightened his arms around his neck, pressing their foreheads together. “Love that you’re mine,” Castiel repeated, softer this time, pulling away to find Dean’s lips while his thumb circled the tip of his cock.

When Dean reached climax, he moaned softly into Castiel’s mouth, tugging at his hair throughout. Castiel used toilet roll to clean them up, giving up halfway when the rhythm of the shower came to a halt, and he grabbed Dean’s wrist so they could make their escape from the bathroom before the unfortunate student could put faces to their questionable noises.

They ran towards the kitchen, Castiel heading straight to the oven to pull out a slightly burnt cake, using a dish towel to protect his hands. He dropped the hot cake tin onto the surface of the oven and eyeballed it. Dean came up behind him, placing a hand on the small of his back. He rested his chin on Castiel’s shoulder, eyeballing the cake with him.

“It looks okay,” he said without much conviction.

Castiel hummed, unassured, and folded his arms, his gaze still on the cake.

“I mean, we’ll, uh, cover the black bits with the frosting and we’ll probably not even taste the burntness around it…” Dean tried, waving a hand towards it.

“ _You_ wouldn’t taste the “burntness” at the speed you eat your food, but I can’t say the same for the others,” Castiel sighed.

“Rude,” Dean commented playfully, reaching for the tub of chocolate fudge frosting and peeling the lid off. “Anyway, who are these “others””?

“I dunno, I’ll probably ask a few of Anna’s friends over and Pamela will be there,” Castiel shrugged. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

“What, uh, what about Gabriel?” Dean suggested, side-eyeing Castiel while he pretended to be reading the label on the frosting tub.

“Um- I- I’ve hardly talked to Gabriel in years, Dean,” Castiel stammered, confused.

“Yeah, I know, but… Come on, you’re not wondering if he might be visiting for Anna’s birthday too?” Dean looked at Castiel properly this time.

“If he did, he would visit her on her actual birthday, with dad there.”

Dean considered this then nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I guess.”

The cake had cooled and been frosted before Dean brought up Gabriel again.

“How come you don’t really talk? Were you just not that close, or…?”

“Who, Gabriel and I?”

Dean nodded.

“Yeah, we just weren’t very close anyway. I was much closer with Anna. He just left because he wasn’t into the strict religious lifestyle our father was governing and the job he got just sort of took him pretty far away,” Castiel explained from where he stood at the sink, filling up a soapy basin. “Nothing dramatic,” he added.

Dean brought over the mixing bowl and wooden spoon, dropping them into the basin. He hovered next to Cas, who scrubbed at the bowl then handed it to Dean to be dried.

“I’d like to amend that,” Castiel said idly, fishing out the spoon from the bottom of the basin.

“Huh?”

“I want to be close with Gabe, you know; I want us to be proper brothers. Like you and Sam.”

Dean placed the now-dry bowl down on the worktop and slung the dish towel over his shoulder. “I bet he’s been thinking the same,” he said. He hesitated before continuing; “Look, I don’t mean to be dark but it’s a good time for both of you to, you know get talking again. You’ll- you’ll need each other.”

Castiel didn’t react much, just nodded and handed Dean the wooden spoon.

“I’ll have you,” he said eventually, the tone of his voice almost making it sound like a question.

“Of course you’ll have me,” Dean assured Cas, pulling him into a one-armed hug and pressing his lips to the corner of his eye.

“Come on, let’s hurry up in here. I wanna order pizza.”

* * *

 

Castiel squirmed under Dean’s arm, waking him up in the middle of the night. A strangled whimper escaped his throat and he tightened his grip on his pillow.

“Cas?” Dean murmured, his voice husky from sleep, but his only response was another whimper.

As Dean’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the creases in Castiel’s forehead where his face was screwed up. He combed fingers through Castiel’s sweaty hair, crooning soft comforts in his ear, until his muscles relaxed and he was taking in steady, slow breaths again.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” Dean whispered into his neck, placing a kiss there. "I got you."


End file.
